I pray the Lady, my soul to keep
by FythyrWisp
Summary: Dissenters from both heaven and hell have found a different set of brothers to be the vessels, and intend to raise Michael and Lucifer from the cage to restart the apocalypse. Their mother, however, has a connection to the Winchesters, and to Castiel.
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: I haven't written in what feels like a million years, but this concept won't leave me alone. Seriously, it's been plaguing me for months. So I finally broke down and decided to roll with it, I do know what my writing was like before I stopped, though, so I'm going to set this on M so I can see where it goes without restricting myself... Personally, I prefer to read as close as possible to cannon, but my hands are a bit tied, as I haven't even started season 11 (no spoilers, I beg you!) due to my insanely busy evenings. So sad. Anyway, I don't want to give anything away, so, let's jump right in. Thanks for reading!

Good news, everyone! As of 1-11-2018, I am doing a rewrite. The more polished version is going up on AO3, same username as here! This one is staying as-is for any die-hard purists, but my writing is most certainly improved, and I have a quite compelling mundane AU with over a hundred chapters altogether over there as well.

Thanks for reading, it always tickles me when I log in here and see views on stuff that's a couple years old. Also, I have a very neglected tumblr and twitter, if you want to find me.)

* * *

"The flu? Are you kidding me?" Dean spoke loudly into the phone, his voice competing with the roar of the engine. "All the stuff that slows us down, and you're laid up with the flu? Get Cas to mojo you, and get ready."

"I'll be fine, but Cas took off yesterday morning, he was in a big hurry about it, too. I wasn't going to call him for this, but you might want to check in with him, in case he needs anything. It'll keep you from catching this. Believe me, you don't want it." Sam had stayed at the bunker while Dean had been on a simple salt and burn in Alabama.

"I'm stopping in Texas next, some kids went missing, not the party type, real straight-A nerds, I want to see what's going on. Are you sure it's not just a stomach bug? Because if you can get down here, I might end up needing a hand."

"I'll keep you posted on that, in the meantime, I'm going to get some sleep and run us out of chicken noodle." Sam said, getting off the phone in a hurry.

"Poor guy.." Dean muttered, dialing Castiel's number. "Like a week long hangover... Hey, Cas, Sam came down with the flu, and looks like we might have a case in Texas, any chance you can fix him up and get him down here?"

"I'm sorry Dean, I have a pressing matter to attend to, unless there is an emergency, I won't be able to leave just yet. Where in Texas?"

"You know what? It's probably nothing, just check on Sam for me if you can get back to the bunker before I do."

"Of course." Castiel said, lowering the phone and pressing a button to end the call. He turned his attention back to the woman at the table. Her face was blotchy, pale, and streaked with tears, tarot cards were strewn across the table in no apparent order. "Melissa, can you shift the focus of what's coming, send them to their father, while drawing the danger to yourself?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that," she said weakly, between what was left of sobs that had been shaking her entire frame a short time prior, "And if you help me, you're still not strong enough... We could both get hurt, then no one will be able to protect them."

At the bunker, after an obscenely long nap, Sam felt as though he might be up for another round of 'will it stay down,' and headed to the kitchen. Crackers seemed like a safe choice, and he wandered back out to find something, anything to read. He had spent the previous day binge watching, and felt like his I.Q. was melting. Dean had left a few books out on one of the tables, and Sam was running out of energy to continue standing, he was sure he'd find something in them as he sank into a chair.

Gods and Goddesses of India, Djinns, Mythical Creatures of North America... and John Winchester's journal. He picked up the journal, he hadn't seen this in a while, he knew Dean was probably keeping it around, somewhere safe, it had just become far less relevant since discovering the wealth of knowledge easily available thanks to the Men of Letters.

Sam acknowledged that it was probably just his fever, but for now, he felt a small twinge of nostalgic guilt, wondering about his father. They never got along, and there had been plenty of times when Sam wondered if his father had even loved him, but what besides his obsession over Mary's death, had made him tick?

Sam pulled the journal to him, rested his head in his hand, and began to flip through the leatherbound journal, only half paying attention, sticking the occasional cracker in his mouth and sipping some water.

He came to a familiar photograph of a blond woman with short hair, a firm expression, and toned muscles. Dean had described Tara to Sam after meeting meeting her as 'tough as nails, and kind of like a cougary Sarah Connor.'

Sam took the photo out and flipped it over. Scrawled in black pen across the top was Tara's name and the year, 1985. For some reason it seemed a lot further back than he would have guessed. He started to put it back but noticed more writing on the bottom of the tiny photo, mostly covered by his thumb. He set it down on the page to look more closely.

He mumbled around the cracker he was chewing, "Calls her... hm. That's smudged really bad."

His energy was almost gone. He desided to close the crackers and leave them on the table rather than trek back into the kitchen, which in his weakened, fevered state seemed like an a rather large and unnecessary chore.

Sam returned the photo to the page and closed the journal, finished his water, and headed back to his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Not sure I'm happy with the first chapter, should have been more of an introduction, but there are things I only wanted to hint at just yet.

***  
As I have a few triggers myself, please be aware, this chapter contains references to past spousal abuse, and imagery involving the death of children.  
***

* * *

One day at a time. She had dealt with panic and fear before, but her abuser had been tangible. Her ex husband had been horrible to her, and she spent over a year in therapy, but this was a far different situation.

She could feel the danger approaching her children. Castiel had promised her she had time. He had left her the night before, something about research and friends. Through her tearstained memories, she recalled a comment about people he trusted, who she would be able to trust as well.

One day at a time. Cast a field of protection over them, and take them to school. Volunteer shelving books in the elementary school library. She did it on Thursdays anyway, so she made the excuse of having too much time on her hands. Eventually she took a break to have lunch with her kindergartener. She stopped by the art teacher's room to see if he had anything she could work on. A stack of paper, off to the slicer in the work room. Her earbuds in, trying to drown her worries in Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and in the middle of Wildflowers, she froze.

Her children... their faces expressionless, bloodied, and gazing up at an empty, harshly bright sky. The tall grass in the field waved the few wildflowers just above them.

She started, someone's hand on her shoulder. It was the first grade teacher her older child had had a year ago . "Melissa? You're shaking, are you ok?"

Melissa smiled with the same mask she'd used to fool her neighbors years before, silently fighting her nausea. The weight of a thousand worlds might be less painful.

"Sorry, it's just a really sad song..." she popped an earbud out. "Do you happen to know what day they moved the PTA meeting to?" she deflected. She never went to the meetings, but any answer requiring thought would be perfect to derail Mrs. Camden's worries.

"Thursday, I think, but you might want to check in with the office, because I'm really not sure."

"Oh, well, I guess I'll find out. Thanks anyway, it was good to see you!" Melissa gathered up the papers she had cut, and the ones she hadn't, and hightailed it to the art room. She kicked herself for the behaviors she recognized as what should have been long dead survival instincts of a formerly battered woman.

Thankful the art teacher wasn't around, she finished the few papers she had left with scissors, and went out to the parking lot. There was only an hour left of school, she could sit in her minivan for that long.

* * *

Dean arrived in Robertsville, Texas, and went straight to work. The police station, the sheriff's office, even asking the local newspaper if they had any details that they had left out of their articles.

The kids had all been students, one middle schooler, three high schoolers, and two freshmen from the local college. Past that, he was stuck. He started to regret not waiting on Sam for this one, but then, kids were going missing. That wasn't something he could just sit around and watch happen.

He walked into the coffee shop across the street from the college campus. He had contacted a roommate of one of the missing college students, and had his fingers crossed that something relevant would come up. He got a coffee and sat down in a corner, attempting to give off an obvious fed-vibe as he kept an eye on the door.

Not much later, two young ladies came in, a slender blonde cheerleader type in shorts, a tank top and flip-flops, the other, covered in modest but lightweight fabrics wrist to ankle, and wearing a hijab. The two chatted in a friendly manner, and placed an order. The blonde came over to his table as the other girl waited for the coffees. "Would you happen to be Agent Lee?"

Dean looked up, pretending not to have noticed her before. "Yes, are you Lita?"

"No," she said, taking a seat at his table, "Lita's getting our drinks. I'm Charlotte," she said, offering her hand over the table.

Dean set his coffee down and shook it, "Nice to meet you, Charlotte."

Lita came over with two cups, placing one in front of Charlotte as she sat down. "Agent Lee, I hope you don't mind that I asked Charlotte to come with me."

"Absolutely not." Dean tried to tone down his usual go-to level of charm. "I'm here to try to find out what happened to Mattie, the last thing I'd want to do is make either of you uncomfortable. And it's smart, y'know," he shrugged, "you're in less danger if you aren't going places by yourself. Can't be too careful."

Dean took a sip of his coffee, "So, did Mattie say where she was headed the evening she disappeared?"

"She was going to get some things from the corner store on Oak Street. She didn't say what she was going to pick up, and she said she would text me if she was coming back late." Lita glanced at Charlotte. "I kept waking up to check my phone, but if she sent a message, I didn't get it." Lita's reaction of confusion and fear seemed genuine. Dean had seen plenty of liars and people ridden with guilt who clearly deserved it, but he was certain Lita was just worried about her friend.

"Is there anyone else you think I should ask about Mattie?" Dean tried his best to imitate Sam's sympathetic probing.

"She didn't have any boyfriends, or any stalkers, if that's what you mean. That's what the police asked me." Lita seemed a little nervous.

"How about, off the record? Anyone I might want to check in to, just in case? No one has to know."

Lita became very quiet for several moments, refusing to look at him directly.

Charlotte wasn't oblivious to the tension. "I'm going to get us a couple of those cinnamon cookies, is that ok?" she asked, putting her hand on Lita's shoulder. Lita answered with a nod.

Dean took a pen out of his pocket, set it on a clean napkin, and slid it to the middle of the table. Lita looked at it for a moment, glanced over her shoulder to where Charlotte was standing in line at the counter.

Dean never considered himself to be the most culturally sensitive person, and he would freely admit he wasn't familiar with Muslim social constructs, but he did hope Lita felt safe enough sitting at the table with him, out of earshot of her friend. He was a little grateful that Charlotte had chosen to sit directly across from him, leaving Lita to take the opposite corner, increasing the distance between them.

Charlotte began to speak to the barista, and in a quick motion, Lita snatched the pen and napkin, scribbling something down in a hurry. Dean tried to pretend he didn't notice, as she wrapped the napkin around the pen and flipped it across the table, where it slid less than gracefully in front of Dean before slipping off the edge, and landing in his lap.

Charlotte turned and began walking back to the table just as Dean pocketed the odd bundle. She sat down and passed a cookie to Lita, who was still avoiding Dean's eyes. "You know, Lita, I completely forgot, but wasn't Mattie going to those meetings with you, at the U.U.?"

Lita looked up, as if she hadn't considered it before.

Dean looked between the two of them. "What's a you-you?"

Charlotte turned to Dean, "Unitarian Universalist, it's a denomination of church, but they're open to all people regardless of beliefs or lifestyles. Jesus is optional. Nobody tells you you're going to hell, I'm pretty sure most of them don't believe in one."

"No hell, huh?" Oh, what he wouldn't give for that to be true.

"They're very accepting," Lita said, "The pastor there helped me find a mosque that was a better fit for me than the services held on campus."

Dean looked her in the eye, "That is awesome. You ask me, that's how things should go... But what about these meetings Mattie was going to? What were those about?"

"They weren't like a spiritual service or class, it was more like a freshman support group, a way to make friends, learn about local resources, most of us are away from home for the first time, and it can be very stressful. The church is right across the street from campus, so you don't have to drive, and it's run by people who've lived in the area for a long time, and know where everything is. We meet just after their youth services, but we didn't meet last week, the person who runs the group was out sick."

Dean mulled it over. "Was Robbie Card going to these meetings, too?"

"I haven't been here long enough to get to know everyone. He might have been there, but I can't be sure." Lita said.

"I'm pretty sure he came a few times, earlier in the year, he stopped going before Mattie and Lita started." Charlotte spoke up. "But I thought he dropped out and went home?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

* * *

"Sam, is Cas back yet?"

Sam sat up slowly. "Not yet... I think... I didn't hear anyone come in, I guess I'll check..."

"I'm running out of ideas here, Sam. There's got to be a pattern and I'm not seeing it. The two college kids were going to a college freshmen support group or something at some church, but that doesn't explain the high schoolers and the middle school kid."

"Did you check if the younger kids were involved in the same church? Maybe they had a youth ministry." Sam suggested, slowly walking the halls of the bunker.

"That's a good idea, Sam. Can you check if this place has a website and see if they mention these kids anywhere online?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting down at the laptop he'd left on the kitchen table while trying to make himself eat breakfast that morning. "What's the name of it?"

"No idea, but it's in Robertsville, across the street from the college." Dean said, getting out of the Impala and fumbling to open the door of his motel room.

"There are two churches."

"What?" Dean closed the door, shouldering his phone.

"There are two churches on the same block. Getsemani Baptist Church, and Robertsville Unitarian Universalist Congregation."

"Yeah, the uh, the not-Baptist one."

Sam shook his head. "Okay... the not-Baptist one. Looks like they've got two youth groups, the middle schoolers meet Wednesday, then the high schoolers meet Thursdays, immediately followed by that college program."

"Can you find anything about the kids I'm looking for?"

"They don't exactly have a team roster, Dean. Internet privacy and all that."

"All right, call me back if you find anything. Oh, and are you feeling any better?"

Sam chuckled, "I'll live. If Cas is driving straight through, he should be along in a few hours. You want me to fill him in?"

"Sure, see if he can make heads or tails of these U.U.s. Take care, Sammy." Dean said, hanging up.

Sam looked at his phone. "You-yous?"


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: A little more on track, looks like I'm still warming up, it's been a very long time. If you're reading, thanks! )

* * *

Castiel walked down the stairs into the bunker carrying a plastic grocery bag.

"Hey, Cas." Sam greeted him with a little more strength than he had had during their previous phone call.

"Sam, how are you feeling?"

"Just awful, but I think I'm over the worst of it."

"Yes, you seem to be healing quickly enough. I brought the tomato soup you asked for, and the sour worms candy. Is it common for children to want to ingest insects? Perhaps their parents use the candy as an alternative to live bugs."

"I don't know, Cas. I just know sour stuff helps most people not to throw up."

Sam pushed his laptop over to where Cas had sat down. "Here, this is what Dean is working on. There's this little college town in Texas, seven students have gone missing, two from the college, the rest are minors, one is particularly young. The two college students were both going to meetings at the same church. Dean is trying to find out if the others were involved there."

The laptop was open to a page involving the congregation's children and teen programs. A picture of several happy children and a few adults lined the top of the page. Castiel's expression changed immediately.

"And this is where Dean is investigating right now?" Castiel demanded with a quiet urgency.

"Yeah, he's trying to find out if whatever is taking the kids is linked to the church. Is he in danger?"

"Probably not. But I'm wondering if others won't be in danger from him."

Sam searched Castiel's face, "What exactly does that mean?"

"There are some things I haven't told you, Sam. I haven't told Dean these things either. I thought it was not my place to tell anyone, but now, I'm not certain."

"Okay... maybe start at the beginning?"

"Did you ever wonder how I was able to find Adam so easily when he was being held by angels?"

Sam took a deep breath. To open with such a painful subject, this was could not be an easy talk he was in for.

* * *

After stashing the Impala a block away, Dean stood quietly behind a small house that had been repurposed for a church nursery and sunday school, partially hidden by tall trash and recycling cans, low branches, and shadows. He watched the parking lot and the main building. He checked his watch, about twenty minutes until the middle school group began, but the place looked deserted.

He could see a side door to the main building, it was out of sight of the parking lot but looked like it went directly into the sanctuary of the church.

A light blue minivan pulled into the parking lot. As it took a parking space Dean could see a bumper sticker. "Do Good Things."

A woman got out of the van, looking around. It was a fairly secluded area, and Dean was good at not being seen, so it was clear she thought she was alone and unobserved. She set her large denim purse on the driver's seat and opened it. When she stepped back, she was holding a knife. Dean was too far away to see much detail, but he was certain this was not something you'd see any average soccer mom doing.

"No. No, don't do that." Dean muttered to himself.

She turned, facing in different directions for a few moments, then knelt, holding the knife on her lap in a passive way. Her back was to him now, but her head was down, one hand to her face.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean whispered.

Slowly, she rose, brushed off her jeans, and put the knife back into her purse. She closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle.

Dean bolted for the side door of the main building, his lock picks out by the time he got there.

* * *

"Okay my munchkins, it's Wednesday night, you're going to your dad's house. Anything you want to take with you?" Melissa asked, as her two boys piled into her minivan with their backpacks and lunch boxes.

"I want to take my sheep!" the oldest, Dylan, spoke up.

"Nope. That thing is as big as a house, it won't work. What about your bears?"

"I really want my sheep, mom."

"Dylan, if it won't fit in your backpack, it stays home. You know the rule."

"Fine. Then I want my lobster." Dylan huffed.

Her youngest chirped. "I don't want stuffed animals anymore. I want a pet chicken."

The kids continued to chat about their days, and what video games to play with their father that evening.

Home, snacks, packing a change of clothes, it all flew by so fast, a blanket of panic just behind her mind the entire time.

She finally collected her thoughts when it was almost time to leave, taking an unlabeled jar off a high shelf.

"Come here, you guys have been out in the sun too much this week, you need some lotion."

"I don't!" whichever said it first was soon echoed by the other.

"Yeah, you do."

"But that one smells weird."

The lotion was regular store-bought cheap stuff, but the extra stuff she put in the jar to steep was the real reason for her insistence. What better way to weave a protective barrier than directly in the skin of those you want to protect?

"Deal with it, kidlets. Mom makes the rules for a reason."

Arms and faces, good enough. Extra hugs getting into the van. Ten minutes later, she watched the two halves of her heart scramble up the lawn, pressed the button to close the sliding door, and gave her ex husband their customary 'got it from here' wave.

She checked to make sure she had her curriculum print outs and take-home copies with her, and swung into the local pizza place to pick up the standing order.

The anxiety she had been feeling all day was growing on her. She sat in the parking lot, the smell of the pizzas filling up the van, but all she could feel was a tightening in her chest and throat. Every time she blinked, visions of blood.

She was scared. She was on her last nerve. Maybe she was having a mental breakdown. But that couldn't be true, because Castiel had assured her, this was very real.

She took a deep breath, and pulled out her phone. She didn't want to do this. Every inch of her skin crawled just thinking about it. But what other options did she have?

She recalled their last conversation. She had written down every word, every feeling, tears falling on the pages, before she had taken the stack of paper outside and burned it.

There was so much pain there. But deep in the recesses of her oldest email account, she still had his number.

Tears slipped down her face as she dialed.

Voice mail...

Anything to protect her children. Anything. Even this...

"I know you said not to call. But I need help. Something is coming, something more powerful than anything I've ever seen. I'm desperate. Please, Daddy... it's coming for your grandchildren, and I don't know how much longer I can keep them safe." Her voice broke into sobs. "I'm sorry. I really hope you understand, I just need help for them, if you don't want to see me after that, it's fine, but please come help me."

She shook a bit as she ended the call.

But she had things she needed to get done. She scrubbed at her face to try to hide the tears, and got back on the road.

She couldn't face the class like this, she needed to calm down. Bringing this anxious energy in with her would throw everything off.

She parked her van, got her athame out, checking to make sure she wouldn't freak out any of the more conservative neighbors living around the church, and proceeded to call the corners. She knelt, going by her own instincts, doing what she needed to ground herself, in this case, making actual contact with the earth.

She sought calm, clarity, and safety for her children. Nothing more than a prayer of her own making.

Melissa felt better almost instantly, and began to gather her things.


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: I realize the pacing seems to be off, like mini time-jumps, this is totally on purpose, I'm hoping it'll play out better this way. Also, there is some mild gun violence in this chapter, but if you watch the show, you probably won't have a problem with it. )

* * *

Castiel's serious, but collected demeanor went out the window like a shot. He nearly doubled over where he sat, his face strained and his breaking ragged.

"Cas! What's happening?" Sam reached for him in case he fell.

"She's calling for me. He found her, he thinks she's doing this. I have to go."

"I'll go with you." Sam stood up as Castiel did.

"If I take you with me, I will become very weak. You may need to stop Dean on your own until I recover."

Sam nodded. If anyone was capable of making Dean see reason, it was Sam.

Castiel, still seemingly in pain, pointed to the table. "Get your father's journal."

Sam grabbed it as Castiel reached toward Sam's forehead.

* * *

Dean slipped through the side door as silently as possible. He could see through the wide, low archway on the other side of the sanctuary, there was a hallway leading to the door she had parked near.

He scrambled to take cover as close as possible to where she would most likely come through. His back hit the wall and he pulled his gun close to his chest just as he heard her key in the predicted lock.

In the otherwise absolute silence, the creak of the door and the sound of her footsteps were finely detailed in his ears.

What he was going to do with the witch after he dragged her out of here, he had no idea. He'd have to figure that out later. Once again, he wished Sam was with him.

Melissa juggled her heavy purse, two large binders, and a small stack of loose papers as she passed through the archway, headed to a nearby table at the back of the small and very modern sanctuary. Tall, narrow windows lined opposing walls, but the shades were drawn, and with the lights off it may as well have been dusk.

Dean silently took two large steps to come up directly behind her as she walked, reaching out with his left hand to take hold of her, covering her mouth, bringing the gun to just behind her right ear. At the same time, she panicked, dropped everything she carried, and her hands flew to get his arm to let go as the back of her head hit his chest.

She tried to get away, turning them both a bit into the middle of the empty space in the back of the sanctuary before she attempted to drop out of his grip through dead weight.

"Stop! Stop it, right now!" Dean said, leaning over to keep her mouth clamped shut as she fell to kneeling on the floor.

She froze. He could feel her tears running down the back of his fingers and his palm.

"Waterworks aren't going to work on me, bitch. I know exactly what you are. One little peep of a hex out of you, your brains are on the floor, understand?"

Melissa nodded.

Dean pressed the barrel against her head a bit more firmly as his hand left her mouth.

"Please... I'll make a deal with you..." she said, clearly a wreck, but trying to stay in control of herself. Dean scoffed. He'd made deals with things much more frightening than her. "There's a door behind you. I haven't seen your face. You have a chance to walk away."

"What?" Dean was genuinely confused by this. Not by what she was saying, so much as her tone. This wasn't the typical talk of the average no-good creature he normally hunted, but combined with the fear, he heard something else in her voice. The combination of the three is what really had him startled.

"I won't move, I swear... You haven't hurt anyone, you can just walk away from this, fix your life... please, just don't hurt me. I have two little boys, they need their mom... and the kids coming for the youth group will be here in a few minutes, if they find me dead here, it'll scar them for life."

Dean considered her last statement. More people, kids, mostly, were on their way. "I don't think I'm done with you."

Dean put his forearm across the front of her shoulders, her hands still on his wrist, and dragged her up to stand. He moved his hand to her throat. "Where are your keys?"

She pointed to her purse which had dropped close by.

"Pick it up, we're going for a drive." Dean's voice rasped in her ear.

She hesitated. "Look, I'm not going to wait all day. I know those two college kids who disappeared were coming here, and with four more missing, after your little mojo dance in the parking lot, I'll be damned if I'm going to wait around for you to take another one. What is it, human sacrifice, or you got them tied up somewhere?"

Melissa was shaking. "I don't know what you mean."

"Just pick it up." he pressed the barrel of the gun harder into her skull.

She took a deep, shaking breath, and leaned as though she was picking it up, but instead, she screamed.

The sound of the scream wasn't what surprised him. The shock came from the very familiar name.

"CASTIEL!" Dean clamped his hand over her mouth once again dragging her head backward into his chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "How do you know Cas?"

Obviously she wouldn't be able to answer with his hand over her mouth, but she had screamed with such force that once again, he was partially holding her weight to keep her off the floor and easily in his control.

With a rush of wind and a rustling on the air, Castiel appeared with Sam at his side. About half a second later, Sam was catching Castiel and lowering him to the floor. Sam didn't look to be in much better shape.

"Dean, don't hurt her. Let her go." Sam said, turning back to them as quickly as he could.

"She's a witch, Sam, she's doing weird shit in the parking lot, coming in here, pretending to be some innocent Sunday school teacher, and these kids are going missing. I don't have to draw you a picture." He still had the gun to her head. Her shaking had grown worse, her eyes glazed over, shutting out the trauma, her face had gone a sickly yellow color. Dean, standing behind her, couldn't see it.

"Dean, she's not a witch, she's a wiccan."

"Then why is she teaching kids in a church?"

"Because this church is cool with that."

Dean looked down at Melissa, leaning over her to see her face. "Why is this church cool with that?"

Melissa rolled her eyes and pointed. Dean's gaze followed her directive. Behind the dias, on the wall, where in most churches there would be a cross or crucifix on display, there were instead several small, but ornate symbols depicting the various world religions, all arranged in a circle around another symbol, two overlapped circles surrounding a cup holding a flame.

"Dean, let her go. Cas knows her, she's not hurting anyone."

Castiel began to attempt to move.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know, she might know something, or she might be playing Cas."

"Dean..." Castiel gasped weakly from the floor. He started to get up, Sam helped him to his feet.

"You can't hurt her, she's a Lamed Vavnik." Castiel said quietly.

"So, what, you need something special to gank one?"

As Dean spoke, Melissa's eyes widened, she shook harder, and went limp.

"Great, Dean," Sam dropped next to her to check that she was still breathing, as Dean moved to lay her on the floor, "you made her so scared she passed out."

Castiel wobbled on his feet as he spoke again. "She didn't faint because of Dean. She knows what she is now, and she was overwhelmed. It's a common reaction."

The door down the hallway creaked open. Dean put his gun away immediately and drew back from the woman on the floor. In the darkness, the gangly teenager didn't notice them right away.

"Melissa? Oh my God, Melissa are you okay? Steven, come in here!"

The young man looked up, noticing Dean first. "What happened?"

"She passed out, her papers just went all over the place." Dean started to pick up some of the dropped items. The door creaked once again.

"Hey Mike, Melissa left her car door open, so I brought the pizzas in. I shut it but it's not lock- Woah! What happened?"

"I'm calling an ambulance, probably shouldn't move her," Sam spoke up, his phone to his ear. "Is there someone else who can take over for her?"

"Yeah, the minister's wife, Nancy. I'll call her." Steven said, setting the pizzas down and fetching his own phone.

Castiel had moved further to the front of the sanctuary, away from the conversation.

Mike walked to the wall and began flipping switches. The sanctuary lit up quickly. He turned back to Dean. "So, I take it you know Melissa?"

"Yes." Dean spoke a little too quickly. Sam was giving him major bitchface as he gave the name of the church to the emergency services dispatcher. "Yes, we know Melissa, that's why we're here. See, she was worried about these kids going missing, all students, and asked us to look into it."

Dean pulled out a fake P.I. badge. "Would you know anything about it?"

"Sure, one kid from my class went missing, and two kids from his brother's high school," he gestured to Steven. "Some of the kids said it was Katy Easton's ghost. She died when a train hit her on a bridge."

Sirens became audible in the parking lot. Mike ran to the door. Dean continued to pick up papers and the folders and binders Melissa had dropped.

Dean glanced at her a couple of times as he worked. Castiel had said it wasn't his fault, but he still had questions.

After a few minutes, the replacement teacher had arrived, Castiel had come back to the back of the room, and Sam was speaking to a paramedic...

"And how do we get in touch with her next of kin?" the paramedic was taking notes.

Castiel interrupted Sam. That was very out of character, and got Dean's attention. "You'll find Rich Faulkner, her adoptive father, in her records as her emergency contact, he passed away six months ago. These two men are her brothers."

Dean looked at Sam, who didn't immediately look up from Melissa. "Is that right?" the paramedic asked Sam. Sam nodded absent mindedly.

Even as a cover story, which admittedly, Castiel was getting better at, that should have elicted some response from Sam.

* * *

They stood in the parking lot of the church watching the ambulance pull away.

Dean had brought the Impala around. They were about to follow it over to the hospital, but after climbing in, Dean sat with the key in his hand, looking at the blue minivan.

Dean broke the silence. "Either one of you want to fill me in on any of this, I'm all ears. Cas, what did you say she was?"

"A Lamed Vavnik. One of the thirty-six hidden saints, who's selfless acts of kindness keep the world in order."

"And you know her, how?" Dean demanded, turning around in his seat.

Castiel looked him in the eye. "Before I pulled you out of Hell, in the literal sense, I helped her escape a more figurative hell. The rest of that isn't really any of your business."

"So, what, you have to play guardian angel to multiple people?"

"I choose to. For every living Winchester, anyway."

"Dean, can we just head to the hospital now, before she wakes up and someone asks if she wants to press charges?" Sam interjected.

"Hey, you're not off the hook either. You just show up out of nowhere with Cas, carrying dad's journal around. When's the last time you needed it for anything? And since when do you not want to talk things out?"

"Later, Dean."

"Fine."

Dean started the engine and headed to the hospital. "You have your phone, check on a railroad accident that happened around here, and the name Katy Easton. Might be a lead."

* * *

Pulling into the hospital parking garage, Dean noticed Castiel was unconscious again in the back seat. Zapping himself and Sam to Texas had clearly drained him.

Sam had found an old news article in the online archives for the college's newspaper with more details on Katherine Easton. "She, and three friends had crossed the bridge for a picnic on the other side of the river because Katy's 19th birthday was the next day, but that was a Monday, so they'd be in class. They saw the north bound 2 o'clock train run, so they thought they had an hour before the 3 o'clock southbound train came through. None of them had a watch, the first train was about 45 minutes late, and they were still on the bridge when the southbound train came through. They all ran, but Katy was struck, and killed instantly."

"That sucks. When did that happen?"

"The 1930s."

"No, I mean was it around this time of year?"

"Yeah, this week."

"So there could be a connection."

Dean turned around after shutting off the engine. "Should we wake him up?"

"Hey, Cas?" Sam asked softly, Castiel only opened his eyes in response. "Do you want to wait out here, or you want to come in?"

"It might be best if I stay here. But she'll also be recovering from a major shock. Please try not to upset her." Castiel said, closing his eyes again.

Both Sam and Dean lowered the windows, and Dean double checked the sun wouldn't hit the car any time soon, then they started for the stairs.

After a very silent walk in, broken only by a stop at the front desk, the two were settled into a small waiting room.

No long after, a nurse popped in to find Dean sitting on a couch as Sam stared out a window. "Are you here for Ms. Faulkner?"

"Yes." Dean stood up quickly.

"She's doing fine, she hasn't woken up yet, but her medical records are already in our system so it was easy to find out everything we'd normally need to ask about. But just in case we missed anything, we may run some questions by you in a little while. You can see her now, though, I'll take you back."

Following the nurse, Sam asked "Any idea what happened? She just kind of, y'know, fell over out of nowhere."

Dean looked at Sam, who returned yet another bitchface.

"It was likely a side effect of her heart medication, but it's not uncommon for stress to trigger an anxiety attack, and she has been treated for those here before. Has she been under a lot of stress lately?"

"Well, we don't live around here, so it's been a while, but today, at least, yeah. You could say that." Dean was not going to look... not looking, nope.. he looked. Yep, drowning in bitchface.

Finally at her door, the nurse left them to go back to her station. Sam hissed at Dean, "Why didn't you back off when I told you to!?"

"She could've run! How am I supposed to know Stevie Nicks in there isn't some kind of baby-eating she-devil?"

"You're supposed to trust me and Cas!"

"Cas said this wasn't on me, so shut it!"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

They slipped into the room quietly. Dean watched Sam's reaction. Something was off. Really off.

"So what did Cas say about her?"

"A lot. Some stuff, he wouldn't tell me, and then there's some stuff she doesn't know."

"Like what?"

Melissa's head rolled over to one side.

"I think she's waking up..."

* * *

(Woo, that was a long one... more soon!)


	5. Chapter 5

(A/N: definitely getting back into the swing of things, hope you're enjoying it as much as I am. I didn't intend for everything in the last chapter to come out all at once, but I think it worked. Certainly wasn't planning the boys' banter, but I think that came out pretty on-target as well, and it made me giggle. If you're still reading, thanks!)

* * *

Melissa opened her eyes for a brief moment before closing them again. She was vaguely aware of other people in the room. It smelled like a hospital.

"Hey... you coming around?" a male voice spoke gently from close by. Must be a nurse.

" ..'are my kids?" she slurred.

"They weren't with you. Can you tell me their names?"

"Dylan and Johnny. Are they okay?"

She kept trying to fight her way out of the fog and regain consciousness completely. All her body wanted to do was sleep.

"Did you leave them with a babysitter, maybe a family member? Somewhere safe?"

 _Safe... keep them safe. Send them to their father, draw the danger to yourself_... Maybe Castiel had done this.

"They're with their father. My ex husband."

"Are they safe there, with him?"

She would have shuddered at her memories, if only she had the energy. "They're okay. He only hit me. Judge said he could still see them, and he straightened out."

Dean had been looking at the chart hanging at the foot of the bed, but at this he looked up. So, not only had he attacked and tried to kidnap a saint, he attacked a saint with a heart condition who had recently enough been a battered woman, who had asked him not to hurt her for the sake of her kids. He muttered under his breath, "Oh, I'm running out of ways to fuck this up."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, who shook his head grimly and went back to looking at the chart.

"I understand your father passed away recently, seeing as you're in the hospital, do you have any family you'd like us to contact?" Sam continued.

"My brother lives in Birmingham. I'll call him in a bit." She tried to open her eyes again. She almost made out a face that time. She rubbed at her face.

"So what happened? Was it a car accident?"

"No," Sam said, "You just had a really bad day, and then, I guess you got some news you weren't expecting."

Her voice was becoming clearer. Dean hung the chart back on the end of the bed. Any time now, she'd be completely awake, and that made him nervous.

"I'm going to check on Cas." he whispered on his way to the door.

* * *

It was starting to get dark out, the street lights were on, as well as the dim lights inside the parking garage.

He could see Castiel's head resting on the seat back as he approached the Impala. He dropped in the driver's seat out of habit. "Hey, Cas. You have a nice nap?"

"I am feeling a little more rested than before." he actually raised his head this time.

"Your little friend is waking up. Sam's talking to her now, but I didn't think it would be a good idea to be there when she came out of it."

Castiel nodded. His breathing was a bit ragged.

"So, what did you tell Sam about this girl? Because he's not exactly sharing."

"All you need to know at this time is that a Lamed Vavnik is capable of producing grace in an unstable form. When she's able, she can assist me in healing myself, as she's done before. She's currently in some trouble, and your actions today have not helped things. Now please take your father's journal from the glove compartment and bring it to Sam. He'll be needing it shortly. Very shortly." His breathing became more ragged, and he clutched at his sternum.

Dean watched his movements, "What's happening to you?" he said, his voice weighted with concern.

"She's agitated. Get the journal and go."

Dean grabbed the journal and headed back to the hospital room.

* * *

He arrived at the door, and could hear Sam talking quickly and quietly. He stepped inside slowly, a stark contrast to the speed with which he'd crossed the rest of the hospital. "What did I miss?"

Sam looked up. "I was just telling Melissa about what we do, how we know Cas, and how you probably feel like shit for what happened earlier today."

Dean's mind went back to Castiel, in pain in the back seat of his car. If that was 'agitated,' he didn't want to see 'pissed off.' "You have no idea how sorry I am about that. Really. I'm trying to find out what happened to these missing kids, and we've run into some really nasty witches- I mean, some nice wiccans, too, but I'm talking about horrible people, really, so when I saw that in the parking lot, I thought... well, I was wrong. I just ran in without asking questions, and I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Dean passed the journal to Sam. "Here, Cas said you needed this."

Sam took the journal, but answered, "Yeah, I don't think we should get into that just just now."

"Cas was pretty insistant."

Sam was about to respond with another stalling tactic, it was written all over his face, but his phone began to ring. He stepped into the hall.

"Sam. Have you told Dean yet?"

"Not yet. I think it should wait." Sam said. "She's doing okay, the doctor is probably going to want her to stay, but she basically said she's going to leave anyway."

"She'll heal quickly. If she's not having any seizures, she must have adjusted. Usually they only ever have an inkling of an idea about these things, they find out a hint of what their true nature is and envelope the idea slowly. She has a particularly strong soul."

Sam shook his head. "I only understood about half of that. You'll have to explain later."

"I'm going to need to eat and sleep soon, Sam. I'm not able to care for this vessel entirely on grace, not after getting us both here."

Sam nodded on instinct. "I'll let Dean know, we'll get you set up."

* * *

Sam had been a pretty good buffer, but now it was just the two of them. The silence, and the death glare, were deafening.

"So, any good places for pie in this town?"

"If I tell you where the good pie is, will it get you further away from me?"

Dean chuckled, and decided to ignore the 'fuck off and die in a fire' tone in her voice. "Depends on how good the burgers are."

"Nope." she said, disinterested. "There are some decent burgers around town, but what you really want is to hit up Cal's Diner on fourth and oak, get the chicken-fried steakfingers with extra gravy. It's the same spot as the pie."

"I'll have to do that, sounds like a damn good meal." Dean looked at the door, wondering when Sam would come back. He turned back to Melissa, not sure whether he should try to apologize again, or ask about the missing kids, and Katy Easton.

Just as he opened his mouth, sure he was going to bumble his way through, the door opened again.

"Cas needs to do some vessel maintenance, are you ok here by yourself? One of us can come back and get you home later on, even if it's late, we don't mind, really." Sam said.

"Sure, go ahead. I've got Castiel's number." she waved them off.

Walking through the parking garage, Sam made a comment about leaving the bunker without packing.

"Yeah, I guess you were in a hurry. Don't worry about it. You still look like crap, so I'll drop you and Cas at the motel, and go grab you some stuff from the big box store, it'll get you through. In the meantime, maybe Cas can tell us more about this Llamaed Vavnik thing."

"Dude. It's Lah-med."

"What?"

"Lah-med."

"What did I say?"

"Llamaed."

Dean chuckled to himself. At this point they had reached the Impala. As soon as his door was shut, he turned to face Castiel. "Okay, I'm going to run out and get Samantha a new dress, you want anything? Razor, toothbrush, some clothes?"

"Just food and rest. Thank you."

* * *

A short wait in a drive-thru later, Dean added Castiel's phone to the pocket where he kept his own as he watched to make sure Sam and Castiel got into the motel room safely before driving away.

Sam set the bag of chinese food down on the small table as Castiel seated himself.

Sam glanced at where Dean's laptop sat closed on one of the beds. "I feel like I should be finding out more about that possible ghost, but I'm not sure I want to borrow Dean's computer. It's not like he was expecting company."

Castiel was almost half finished with his meal, taking bite after bite in rapid succession. "If it's local history, Melissa will likely know something about it. She likes to learn about the places she goes."

"Is that right?" Sam asked, finally taking a bite of his own food.

Castiel swallowed a large forkfull. "I took her to Medicine Wheel in Wyoming a few years ago to spend an afternoon. She kept asking questions." his face was a cross between sheepish and exasperated, "I ran out of answers."

Sam smiled and tried not to laugh.

Castiel finished his food and drink and tried to stand. He swayed, and for a moment, Sam was sure he was going for the floor, possibly taking the flimsy table with him.

"Woah." Sam stood quickly, grabbing Castiel by his upper arms. "It's okay, I've got you."

Sam half carried, half dragged Castiel to the closer bed, rolling him out of his coat, as he sank to the pillows. He spread the coat over Castiel as a blanket.

Castiel felt his shoes come off, and heard Sam's chair squeak as he sat down to finish his dinner.

* * *

Dean was putting the last of the bags into the trunk in the nearly empty and nearly pitch black parking lot when Castiel's phone started to ring.

"Yeah?"

"I take it Castiel's not there." Melissa's voice seemed irrate.

"To be fair, y'know, he's not doing so good. Hopefully he's sleeping it off. Should I run back over and pick you up?" Dean asked, closing the trunk.

"I guess so. I gave them two hours to bring me the A.M.A. paperwork, so I finally just took the I.V. out and left."

Dean wasn't sure if he found that dangerous and stupid, or incredibly bad-ass. "Okay, then. I'm about two minutes away."

"You'll find me at the gas station across the street from the hospital."

Dean saw a large yellow sign on the side of the gas station. It resembled a caution sign, but instead said 'safe place.' He'd heard something about those signs once, and wondered if Melissa had been here before.

He used Castiel's phone to send her a text message. "Here. Black car"

She replied quickly, "in a minute"

Dean took out his own phone, finding he missed a text from Sam. "Ask Melissa about the train bridge accident"

Dean put his phone away, and Melissa came out and got in the passenger side door.

"Thanks." she didn't sound very thankful, but she probably didn't trust him, he sure wouldn't, were their situations reversed. "You remember the way back to the church?"

"Yeah. Are you okay to drive?" Dean watched her face carefully.

"I'm always okay to drive. Drove myself to the hospital with a stab wound, once."

Dean chuckled as he pulled out onto the street, "Okay, so we have something in common... Listen, how much do you know about hunters?"

"The kind that shot Bambi's mom, or the kind that hang out with critters not-of-this-world, like Castiel?"

"The, uh, the second one."

"My mom is a hunter... if she's still alive. She left a few things with my dad when she split. I found them in a box when I was 10. A couple of weapons, some notes on chupa cabras, ingredients to summon something, thank goodness I was too scared to touch any of it, and a letter telling my dad if anything came after me to run to some auto shop in South Dakota."

Dean had some fond memories of that auto shop. "Okay, so you know it's nothing good."

Melissa nodded.

"So, I need some information. Is there a ghost legend about a train bridge near the college?"

Melissa thought for a moment. "Yeah, there is. 1937, the day before Katy Easton turned 19, she was killed trying to cross the bridge. They didn't know the last train they had seen was late, they thought they had an hour, and she was still out in the middle of the bridge when the next train came. The tracks still get some use, maybe a couple times a month. Some of the kids say the bridge is haunted, and they dare each other to go out there at midnight, which is stupid, because she was killed in the middle of the afternoon."

"Have you ever been out there?"

"Sure. I took some pictures for a local history blog my dad had."

"Any chance you had an E.M.F. reader on you when you went?"

Melissa gave him a sideways look.

Dean shrugged, "It was worth a shot."

After a few moments, Melissa spoke up again. "You have everything you need to go check it out?"

Dean considered his trunk for a moment. They were almost to the church. The roads around the college were deserted. Small towns, rolling up the sidewalks at sundown... "Yeah, I think so."

"Take a left."

Dean pulled up at a red light, and turned to look at her. "Are you sure this is something you want to be involved in?"

"Most likely, it's a load of crap. If it is, we rule it out, if not, we handle it before anyone else gets hurt."

Dean gave his classic 'you've got a point' frown/shrug. He turned on his blinker.


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N: I fell at the skating rink a bunch of times yesterday, landed on my knees a bunch, so I'm black and blue and stuck on my ass until the swelling goes down. [Worth it!] So, may as well crank out some more story. Let me know if it floats your fritters. :)

WARNING: Some imagery implies possible suicide, please take care of your mental health and avoid things that could be triggery. )

* * *

Sam stretched out on the empty bed. As worn out as he was, he still couldn't sleep. The conversation just before Castiel had taken them out of the bunker that afternoon seemed so long ago, even though it had been a matter of hours.

He looked over at his unearthly friend, currently a large tan-covered lump, faintly snoring.

Sam pulled out his father's journal again. He kept turning the pages, looking for some vague hint that night not have made sense before. He didn't want to believe what Castiel had told him, but he'd never believe that Castiel had lied. Not about something like this.

Sooner or later, Dean needed to know. Not much scared Sam anymore, but this did. This would take one of Dean's most protected weaknesses, and rip it wide open. He couldn't bring himself to admit the same weakness existed in himself, not yet, but hints of it danced at the edges of his mind.

* * *

Dean pulled under the bridge at the edge of the park. "I don't see any tracks."

"The railroad bridge is about a quarter-mile down the river, this is the closest place to park, there aren't any roads, just open field, and trees along the river. We'll want to stay back from the tree line, see where it starts upward?"

Dean looked where she was pointing. "Yeah,"

"It's a pretty sharp drop off the cliff, and the bridge is about 60 feet above the river."

Melissa helped him move the bags in the trunk to the back seat. Opening the hidden compartment, he passed her a few things. Normally, he'd split the load with Sam, but he had no idea what, if anything, she'd be able to do. He gave her a few just-in-case items, salt, holy water, and a three foot length of thin iron chain. "This ought to be enough to keep you safe if there's anything nasty hanging out on the bridge. Salt, in a circle, they can't get in. Holy water works if it's a demon, and if it's a ghost, you can slow them down with the chain."

She put the flask of holy water in her back pocket, and put the chain over one shoulder, loosely flipping it through itself at her other hip. Salt in one hand, flashlight in the other.

Dean turned to say something, but instead, just looked her over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask whatever you want, can't guarantee I'll answer it." Melissa said, starting to walk away from the car.

Dean grabbed the sawed-off shot gun full of rock salt, and closed the trunk, hurrying to stay close. "What makes you so trusting you're going out looking for something dangerous with someone who put a gun to your head today? Doesn't exactly sound like a smart plan."

Melissa walked a bit further. Dean listened carefully. Just as he resigned to not getting an answer, she spoke. "Castiel has mentioned you and your brother before. He said he trusts you. That's rare. You both remind me of someone, too, but I can't put my finger on it right now."

Dean came up over a steep rise, standing up next to her. "There's your tracks, that way runs right by the college, and that way is the bridge."

Dean could make out buildings in the darkness far off to their right, and a dark shadow that looked like twisted metal a short walk to their left.

"Also, we're trespassing, but it's city property, so we probably don't need to worry about getting shot at."

Dean started toward the bridge. "Good to know. Might want to hang back a little, keep the salt and holy water ready to go."

As they approached the bridge, Dean could tell it had been tree branches and shadows making the steel beams above the bridge look twisted. He turned off his flashlight, signalling Melissa to do the same.

"You see that?" Dean pointed.

"Yeah, I see it. You think it's real?"

Thankfully the moon was bright enough not to need the flashlights once their eyes had adjusted, and the grass beside the tracks was soft enough they were able to get fairly close, hopefully unobserved.

They stopped near the bridge. At the opposite end was a figure floating about two feet above the tracks. A sudden gust started it swinging.

"Oh my God..." Melissa breathed in a whisper, "if that's a person, we might be able to get them down-"

She took off running for the bridge before Dean could stop her.

Dean couldn't tell if this was some prank, or if someone had hung themselves on the bridge. Melissa clearly want going to wait and find out.

Dean was starting to catch up to her, when she stopped abruptly.

"Go back! ... I can't move..." she yelled.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He watched in horror as Melissa's body was quickly pressed against one of the steel beams. His flashlight and gun in his hands, he began turning around quickly, looking for anything that could be causing this. "Quit being a coward and come out!"

A voice came from above him. "Agent Lee? Oh, my gosh!"

Dean swung his light and his aim upwards. It was the blond college girl from the coffee shop.

"Charlotte?"

She started to climb down. "Oh, Charlotte's taking a little nap in here. If you want to leave a message, she'll get it when I'm damn good and ready to move out."

In the beam of the flashlight, her eyes went black. She turned to Melissa. "Well, you're a bright light in a dark world, aren't you? Oh, I bet I'd get a nice bonus if I served you up to the right person."

Dean looked around for his options. Despite the steel beams, there was no actual railing on the bridge. He didn't want to throw her off, though, not with a girl in there. There was also the possibility of her taking Melissa with her.

"So what is this? You string up a mannequin to get ignorant kids to come out here, then what?"

"Oh, no. You won't get it that easily. See, I'm just here until I get enough of the one thing I was sent to collect." She looked directly at Dean, "You've learned a few things today, but you're not going to cut it. She's also not on the shopping list..."

Charlotte, or whatever demon was inside of her, was very close to Melissa now. She put her hand on Melissa's head and pressed the back of it into the steel beam, holding open an eyelid and looking carefully. "Oh, yes. I see it now. Only one way to get you there in one piece with him around, though..."

Melissa slipped a hand between herself and the beam. Dean barely had time to notice before thick black smoke rose out of Charlotte's mouth, and tried to circle black toward Melissa's face.

As Charlotte collapsed, Melissa came off the side of the beam as if she were dropped by whatever power had gripped her. Her hands came forward, grabbing Charlotte, now on her knees, by the back of her neck, pouring holy water into her mouth with the other.

Dean watched in horror as the smoke dove for Melissa a second time, before launching upward and disipating into the night sky.

Melissa was still on her feet, even if she was shaken up. He went straight to Charlotte. She was breathing, and the holy water wasn't causing any sizzling.

"How did you do that?"

Melissa didn't answer, but shakily started making her way off the bridge. Dean could see, even as dark as it was, that she was stumbling. He picked Charlotte up and started walking after Melissa.

Melissa stopped about 20 feet from the bridge before sitting down hard in the grass. Dean carefully set Charlotte down and pulled out his phone. He did a quick search for a blessing to keep someone from being possessed after having a demon leave their body, got the rest of the holy water and the salt from Melissa, and was able to get it done quickly, and without incident.

"So..." Melissa finally spoke, "there's an app for that?"

* * *

After a soccer-mom crack, Dean watched Melissa's minivan turn onto the road to her house before heading back to the motel.

He was exhausted, nearly missed his turn twice, and finally made it to the motel. Thank goodness there was a night clerk at the desk. He claimed he locked himself out, and was given a second key card.

When he got into the room, it still smelled like fried rice and noodles. Castiel and Sam had taken up both of the beds, but thankfully there was a couch. Good enough.

* * *

Melissa woke up late the next morning to an alert on her phone. She sat up, groggy and still a mess from yesterday.

It was from the school district. She tapped the link to go to the audio message.

"This is an automated message from Robertsville Independent School District. Your student,... Dylan, ...is not in attendance today. Please remember to send a signed note-"

She closed it, and her phone immediately chimed with a second one for Johnny.

This was too much. There was only a week of school left, and their father didn't seem to care whether they even showed up.

Melissa put on her boots, the ones her ex seemed to find the most intimidating, changed her shirt, and headed to her van, purse in one hand, hairbrush in the other.

She was going slow along county roads, making the last three miles into town. Her phone connected to the minivan's bluetooth, she dialed her ex husband.

Dylan picked up.

"Honey, where's your dad? I need to talk to him."

"He didn't come out of his room. We knocked a bunch of times, but now we're just playing video games."

"Ok, well it's 10, and you were supposed to be at school today, so get ready and I'll be there soon."

"Okay. I fixed me and Johnny some oatmeal."

"Good job. But go get ready to go. I'll be there soon."

* * *

Dean woke up to the sound of Castiel pacing. "Take it easy on the carpet, it didn't do anything to you."

Castiel sat down at the table.

Dean sat up a bit, considering the coffee machine. He looked over at his brother.

Sam was snoring, curled up around the journal. Dean noticed this time that he had fallen asleep with it open. He got up and took it from Sam's arm, managing not to wake him.

Tara's picture had been moved to a different page. This one had a cryptic note in John's handwriting.

1-4-'01 - Texas. Bridge burnt.

"Cas... what's going on?" Dean looked up. Castiel looked both restless and guilty.

"Which part?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Okay," he said, sitting down across from Castiel at the table, leafing through the journal to put Tara's picture back on the correct page. "Let's start with the Llamaed Vavnik thing."

"Lamed."

"Yeah, that. So this Melissa is this hidden saint..?"

"There are 36 saints at any given time, not connected to the Catholic Church, in fact you find this in the Hasidic traditions. When one falls, another rises to take their place. They do good deeds given the option, and they do so selflessly. It's very rare for humans to do that."

"Okay... Why did she pass out yesterday? You said that wasn't my fault."

"A Lamed Vavnik will come across the term, and learn about the idea of the Lamed Vavnik. Most have no idea whether they are one or not, but instead unknowingly try to achieve a similar status. If they discover they are one of these saints, normally it's during meditation or prayer during the end of their life. But she wasn't expecting to find out, her soul rejected the idea out of humility, and that's what caused her to collapse."

"But, she has kids."

"So did Margaret Aetheling."

Dean looked at Castiel and decided for once to put it in a term Castiel once used. "I don't understand that reference."

"She was a Catholic saint, who also happened to be a Lamed Vavnik. She was a queen of Scotland, as well."

"Okay. So if it was so difficult for her to find out what she is, why did you tell her?"

"I was trying to tell you, Dean. It just came out wrong. Because of what she is, and how necessary the 36 are, I cannot allow anything to harm her. It's compulsive. I was trying to warn you to back away before I had to do something to stop you."

"Oh. Well, good thing that worked out."

Sam started to stir, uncurling, and then feeling around in the blankets next to him.

"It's over here, Sam." Dean held up the journal, twisting it in the air a bit before setting it back down on the table.

Convinced he wasn't going to damage it in getting up, Sam rose and slowly headed to the bathroom. "Did you get me some clothes?"

"Yeah, they're in the car." Dean turned back to Castiel. "Funny thing, Melissa actually took me out to where this accident happened on a railroad bridge near the college last night, and you will never guess what she did."

Castiel froze, his eyes wide, "Dean..."

"No, nothing like that," Dean chuckled, "This demon was hanging around, it's been taking kids, luring them in with this ghost story, and she basically had us. The demon smokes out, tries to jump into Melissa, and while it's out of this little blond co-ed, Melissa fills her mouth up with holy water so it can't get back in. Really smart for a girl who gets into cars with guys who've tried to kidnap her the same day."

Castiel took a moment, "And she's alright? She's safe?"

"Yeah, I was about to get out a demon blade, but Melissa saved her life."

"I meant Melissa."

"Oh yeah, she's good. Got a little roughed up, but she walked away just fine."

Castiel's face was intense, "Roughed up, how?"

"Calm down! She's fine. You know her mom was a hunter? Probably where she gets it."

"I don't like this. She shouldn't be hunting. And if she was hurt last night, I should've felt something."

Sam came back in, passing through the room, headed to the door. "You were pretty much dead to the world, Cas."

Sam opened the door as Castiel suddenly gasped in pain.

* * *

Melissa arrived at her ex husband's house. The kids were looking for one missing shoe, but stopped to let her in.

She walked down the hall to what was once her bedroom.

"Randy, are you in here?" after years of practice, she was able to demand it without any fear in her voice.

"Randy!" she knocked loudly, making her knuckles hurt. "The kids have school, you can't just let them skip. I'm going to take them, maybe you need to think this over."

Still no answer. She heard the front screen door, the boys were waiting on the porch for her. "Damnit, Randy, if you're using again... Look, just answer so I know you didn't leave them here alone!"

Nothing. She opened the door.

* * *

Dean reached for Castiel, but he'd already jumped out of his chair. "I need to call her, you have my phone."

Dean went straight to the couch and grabbed it out of his jacket, tossing it straight to Castiel's hand. He had it to his ear in record time. "Melissa?"

"I'm okay... okay, hop in the van, guys..." Dean could hear the phone easily, even though it wasn't on speaker.

Sam came back in with the store bags. "What's going on?"

Dean shushed him.

"Sorry, didn't want my kids to hear.. it's my ex. He's splattered all over the place. It's awful. What do I do?"

Sam tore off a tag from a pair of jeans. "Call the cops?"

Dean nodded at Castiel, "Tell her to call the police."

"Melissa, call the police. Try to make this sound normal. We'll be there soon."


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N: Hoping to show you guys a bit of this grace transfer stuff in this episode, got the idea from a dream I had, and it was really neat. Hate to let a cool idea go to waste.

Trigger warning: should have mentioned in the warning for the last chapter about the "he's splattered everywhere," but I thought it was indirect enough not to be too bad. This chapter will be more graphic. Don't worry, the kids didn't know. Furthermore, we all know John was a shitty dad, it's a given, and there's some mention of past abuse in here, with a hero-angst moment. Keep your mental health well!

Thanks for reading!)

* * *

Castiel directed them down the suburban streets in an old neighborhood. Much as he could have found his way back to the location in Hell where he had put his hand on Dean's arm and removed him from the festering cesspool of horrors, he would always know his way to this place.

They turned a corner and it was obvious where they were headed. Three police vehicles, two with lights still flashing, were parked haphazardly around one house half way down the street.

Dean squeezed the Impala through on the bit of street left, pulling forward to park in front of the blue minivan he recognized from the day before, and getting out of the Impala.

Melissa was sitting on a low brick wall circling a tree in the middle of the front yard, speaking to an officer. As they passed the minivan, Dean noticed one of the back windows was open, and two boys were watching a video on a tablet. "Hey, guys. What's going on?"

The older one looked up. He had dark eyes, short dark hair, a few freckles, and wire-rimmed glasses sat on his narrow nose. "Are you a police officer?"

"No, uh, I'm Dean. I met Melissa yesterday, she's your mom right?"

The smaller one, seated closer to the window, looked at him with big greenish-hazel eyes, and went back to watching the show. He resembled Melissa a great deal more than the older boy, but the older one reminded Dean of someone, especially the set of his jaw.

"She's over there. And we don't know you, so since you're not a police officer, we can't talk to you." the bespectacled youngster stated bluntly.

Dean looked over at where Sam was following Castiel toward Melissa. Then he realized Melissa was giving him the same death-glare from last night at the hospital. He quickly backed away from the window, and followed his brother.

The officer was speaking as he came within earshot. Dean noticed Castiel had a hand on Melissa's shoulder, and Sam looked a bit more concerned than usual. "I don't know how a person can be shredded, torn limb from limb, and wind up with walls like Jackson Pollock went nuts with a butter knife, and have those kids be completely oblivious to the whole damn thing, but it looks like that's what happened. Those little boys might be blocking it out, or they just might be real lucky. They should really get to school, though."

"After this, I don't know." Melissa sounded as though she didn't trust her own voice.

"Keep in mind, ma'am, you're going to need to wind down from this yourself, and I've seen you with them in the grocery store on more than one occasion, they aren't going to let you rest. They'll be safe at school, do you have someone who can take them, or maybe we can get someone to take them for you?" Melissa nodded in a non-committal way and the officer walked off.

"I'll take them." Dean said abruptly.

Melissa looked up, then at the officer's back, judging distance. "You put a gun to my head yesterday, you aren't taking my kids anywhere." she hissed.

"Sam, would you mind taking the children to their school?" Castiel asked politely.

Sam looked fairly startled by the request, "Woah, uh, Dean is a lot better with kids than I am."

Dean looked at Sam, "All you have to do is go to the school and sign them in, tell the folks in the office there was a family emergency, and you're done. It's nothing you can't handle."

Sam took a deep breath, "Okay, I guess I can do that."

Melissa held out her keys.

"I'll text you Melissa's address, we'll probably go there as soon as the officers are done with her here." Castiel said, pulling out his phone, and sending the address.

Sam took the keys and started toward the minivan. He threw Dean a 'help me' look, which only made Dean smirk.

Castiel turned back to Melissa. "What do the police think happened?"

Melissa shook her head, "One theory was low-heat spontaneous combustion. Basically, he exploded, but nothing was burned... That's not a thing, right?"

Dean wanted to say it wasn't, except that he had watched Castiel suffer the same fate right before Sam had thrown himself into the cage, pulling Lucifer, Michael, and Adam along with him. "Oh, that's a thing. And I really hope that's not what went down here."

Melissa waved at a small hand sticking out of the minivan window, and hung her head after they'd driven out of sight. Dean walked over to where the officers were standing.

"So, listen, she's got a heart condition, and I'd really like to get her out of here," he said, gesturing to Melissa.

The officer from before spoke up, "Yeah, yeah, we got her statement, spoke to the kids, and we've got all her information, everything checks out, so she can go. Good idea, too, coroner's van is going to be here in a minute, and she's seen enough for today."

* * *

Sam slid into the driver's seat, quickly adjusting it to his height. Melissa was shorter than he was, by quite a bit. He pulled his phone out, "Okay, fellas. My name is Sam. Your mom wants me to take you to school, what's the name of your school?"

"Fartbutt McAssface Elementary."

"No! It's Tootie-boot Damnhead!"

Sam wanted to laugh, but turned in the seat. "I don't have time for this, guys. What's the name of the school?"

"Popsicle Buttdamn!"

"Neener-weiner!"

Sam shook his head. He did a quick search for elementary schools in the area. "Okay, I'm going to take you to West Field Military Academy. Maybe you'll learn the name of your actual school before we get there, and fill me in."

The smaller one squeaked out, "It's Russell Elementary! We go to Russell!"

Sam smirked at his bluff having worked, found the directions immediately, and began to pull away from the curb.

It wasn't much of a drive before they arrived at the school.

Sam let the boys show him where the office was. For a moment, as he walked in the door, he was tempted to reach for a fake I.D. before remembering he didn't have one on him, nor did he need one.

A woman in a dress, blazer, and lanyard with an I.D. on it was standing behind the counter. "Dylan, Johnny, did you have doctor's appointments today?"

"I'm afraid there was a family emergency. Their mother asked me to bring them." Sam spoke up from behind them.

"Okay, let me get their late slips." she said. Sam went to sign them in using the binder, and realized he didn't know the boys' last name.

The woman in the blazer passed the boys their slips of paper and sent them out to class.

"Um, listen, I'm a friend of the family, I only just met Melissa yesterday, I know her last name is Faulkner, but I'm not sure about Dylan and John."

"Campbell."

Sam looked down at the page to hide the shock on his face, and mumbled "That's new."

"Sorry?" she asked

"Like the soup?"

"Yes, same spelling."

Castiel didn't say anything about that, it was a fairly common name, but he'd make sure to ask about it later.

He stared down at the form, nearly writing down a false name for the parent/guardian signature, but deciding against it.

"Is that everything you need?"

She looked over the paper, "Yep, that's everything. And please remember, if Melissa wants anyone to pick them up at the end of the day, we need to hear from her or their father, otherwise they'll be going home on the bus as usual."

Sam nodded, thanked her, and made for the parking lot.

* * *

Sam was almost certain he'd made a wrong turn somewhere, when he saw a familiar vehicle off the road to his left. A bit further, he found the turn for the driveway hidden in some trees on the empty county road, and turned in, following the rough driveway towards a medium sized ranch-style house. He pulled up next to the Impala.

The lack of noise was serene. On a low hill across the road, he could see cattle grazing. He passed a spacious garden next to the house. Dean must have heard the van, and met him at the door.

"Those kids are really something, huh?" Dean chuckled. Sam still looked uncomfortable, and he'd only been with them for a few minutes.

Melissa was out of the room, looking for her heart medication. Castiel sat on a recliner, stiffly, which Sam found rather par for the course where Castiel was concerned. Dean pointed Sam to a breakfast nook between the kitchen and living room, they had stopped for breakfast burritos on the way back. Sam sat down at the table and dug a foil bundle out of the bag.

"So, Cas... these kids, their last name is Campbell." Sam said.

Dean had been pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen, but was back out again much too fast.

"Is their father related to our mother?" Sam continued.

Castiel nodded. "Distantly, yes."

"How distant?" Dean asked.

"Directly speaking, you would be fifth cousins, one generation removed."

"Did Samuel's people know about them?" Sam asked, swallowing hard.

"I don't believe so. Randy's grandfather had a falling out, and broke from the rest of the family. Randy would have known nothing about hunting."

Dean wasn't sure what to think and went back to his coffee. Sam found himself at a loss for words, and turned his attention back to the burrito. Castiel stood, and moved through the kitchen, taking a bottle of pills from the top of the refrigerator on his way through.

A loud noise and Melissa's voice swearing carried down a hallway, into which Castiel disappeared.

For the first time in a week, they were alone, together, with nothing important hanging over their heads.

"So..." Dean said, breaking the silence as he day down with his coffee, "we have some little cousins who aren't likely to try to kill us. That's awesome."

"Dean, she's Tara's daughter." Sam spat out before he could stop himself.

"That makes sense. She said her mom was a hunter, and that she split."

"That's why Cas told me to bring the journal."

"To show her a picture of her mom?"

"Dean..." Sam wasn't sure how to get this out, "Dad... didn't keep a picture of Adam's mom."

"Wait, you think that... That she..?"

"Cas said she is."

Dean looked at the hallway where Castiel had gone. He decided to stay put and wait for one or both of them to appear on their own.

"So, yesterday, when Cas told the paramedic that we're her brothers, that wasn't a cover?"

Sam nodded.

"And you didn't look at all surprised, because you already knew."

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. Clearly, he felt bad about finding out before Dean did, but what else could he have done?

"Does she know?"

Sam shook his head. "Cas only told me because it was kind of an emergency. He wasn't sure how you'd take it, so he asked me to tell you. Anyway, it gets pretty bad after that."

"How? She got adopted by this other guy, looks like her life has been pretty easy, apart from that abusive ex."

Sam looked past Dean toward the hallway again. There was a small bit of pure white light fluctuating in waves on the floor.

* * *

Castiel slipped into the large bedroom with the missing pill bottle. Melissa was sitting on the floor, putting some things back into a cardboard box she shoved under a desk. He helped her off the floor and held out the bottle of pills. "They were in the kitchen."

"I checked the kitchen."

"You didn't see them on the refrigerator."

"I'm short."

Castiel smiled. Already three hours late, she didn't waste any time popping one dry.

She put the bottle in her purse, which was sitting on a dresser by the door.

"Melissa, I'm sorry I was so abrupt yesterday. It was poor planning. You weren't supposed to know what you are. I didn't consider the consequences of telling you."

"So, these clowns you've got hanging around, have you told them something is after my kids?"

"No, not yet."

"Good. Hopefully you won't have to. I called my birth father yesterday."

Castiel listened, knowing full well that there was no way he could have answered the call.

"I got his voice mail, but I don't know, he might call."

Castiel sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're likely to be safer relying on Sam and Dean's help."

"I'd be better off if you were at full strength."

"You found your children's father dead this morning. Maybe you should rest." Castiel said.

"This could be as balanced as I'm going to get for a while, so if you're ready, I'd rather just get this out of the way while we have the time."

Castiel nodded reluctantly.

Melissa stepped close to him, as she had done many times, resting her hands on his shoulders, accepting his hands on the sides of her neck.

She took a few breaths as she dropped into a deep meditation. Castiel watched carefully, as he always had.

What the human eye couldn't make out, but Castiel could, was the white light running through her chakras and flowing through her. Her hands flexed, steadying herself unconsciously. He felt it physically, but was preoccupied with the colors and shapes Melissa's soul was creating and manipulating.

Her eyes still closed, she began mouthing the words to a favorite song. The sound wasn't important, but the intention of her subconscious mind to sing brought her throat chakra open, and grace began to slip out of it.

In the countless ages of Castiel's existence, this was still the strangest connection he'd ever imagined having with anyone.

His thumbs lifted her jaw, tilting her head back gently, making sure not to distract her. He slowly bent forward, and guided the newly formed grace into himself.

Castiel's eyes closed, lost in the feeling. It was similar to touching a soul, but without the delicate control it required. It didn't have the rotted desperation of stolen grace, either.

Warmth, thrumming vibrations, something sweet, tangled pieces of her soul sliding loose to allow the tendrils of grace to pass out of it, he could feel it all. Castiel was vaguely aware that his open lips met, and rested against the soft skin of her throat. His hands had slipped lower to embrace her.

With his own lack of movement, he eventually became aware of a slow pulsing in his arms. It was her breathing. He had collected all of the grace she had been able to create. He opened his eyes and brought one of his hands up to support her head. Her dark brown hair felt silky to his over sensitive hand. He tilted her head forward, laying it on his shoulder for a moment, considering the amount of time it normally took for her to come out of her trance. He could feel her slow, even breaths against his neck, warm and soft. For a moment he wished they could stay like this forever. Supporting all of her weight, he gently turned to lay them both down on the bed.

* * *

Sam decided to ignore the light. "Cas said dad used to come see her sometimes, not as often as Adam, but when she started practicing wicca, dad didn't know the difference, thought she was a witch, and tried to get her to quit."

Dean looked at his hands, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. "She wouldn't do it... What did he do?"

"Dean, he's gone, it's not like we can ask him to answer for- "

"What did he do, Sam?"

"You know what? This isn't any of our business, and I wish Cas hadn't told me. You want to know, you ask her."

Dean thought back to a couple of times he'd refused to follow an order. He loved his father, but would always remember the feeling of his fist against his face. "Did he hit her?"

Sam shook his head, but refused to look at Dean.

Dean got up, unable to keep still. He slowly walked out the front door, and began to wander around, seething.

There was an old barn a little way off. The garden looked pretty functional. A nearby tree had a dead branch hanging down almost to knee-level.

Dean thought of Melissa's little boys. At the same age, he would've tried to climb it, going straight for the dead branch first. He went into the barn, and sure enough, there were a few tools available.

He took the branch off at the break, and dragged it to a brush pile near the road. He had worn himself out, and sat down on the dead branch to consider a branch of his family tree.


	8. Chapter 8

(A/N: Okay, that grace thing turned out to be a lot hotter than I expected... oops. I was really hoping to display kind of a super close, non-sexual friendship between two people regardless of gender, but, um, that doesn't seem to be working.

Trigger warning: Bad stuff, abuse, death... Okay, you know what? Supernatural is an emotional game of limbo. If you ever had anything bad happen, don't read this. Take care of your mental health! Love you!

Thanks for reading!)

* * *

Sam finished eating, got a cup of coffee, and pulled out his phone to check his usual news websites for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing stuck out.

He could see Dean through a few of the windows, pacing around, clearly wound up, finally finding something he could fix. He watched as his brother started hacking away at a dead tree branch with a beat up old saw.

Sam ran a hand over his face and went back to his news articles, glancing out the window every now and again to make sure Dean hadn't hurt himself. Eventually he would wind down and want to completely forget about it.

* * *

Melissa's hand had slipped from Castiel's shoulder to his neck, and he was more than content to leave it there. She started to stir, stretching slightly while inhaling deeply. The sound of her breath and the movement of her body didn't go unnoticed.

He glanced toward his lap, willing his vessel not to react in the way it wanted to.

When his eyes returned to her face, hers were open.

"Oh shit..." she breathed, getting up in a hurry. For a moment, Castiel was concerned she may have noticed where he was looking, and was upset with him. She pulled her phone out of her purse, "How long was I out?... Okay, I haven't missed the bus, it'll be along in an hour."

Castiel sat up and watched her silently as she ran a brush through her hair before leaving the room. He got up to follow her.

The dose of unstable grace was certainly empowering, but volatile. Her relaxed state had made him want to rest, and her momentary panic had put him on edge. He needed time for the grace to mesh with his own.

Melissa caught sight of Dean through the living room window, dragging the tree branch toward the road in what seemed to be the most ridiculous way possible.

"What is he doing?" she asked, turning to Sam.

"He got angry. When he comes across something that pisses him off, he drinks, punches stuff, or fixes stuff. I guess he didn't want to run you out of beer." Sam tried to smile and play it off like a joke, not quite succeeding.

She turned to Castiel, "You want to take him a beer before he gets to the rest of the tree? I want to keep it."

"Of course," Castiel said, and she passed him a bottle from the fridge. He made his way out the front door.

Melissa sat down at the table. "I didn't have much time to talk to my kids today, were they doing alright?"

Sam noted the worry in her voice. "They seemed like normal kids to me, gave me a hard time, spouted off a bit, but no real problems. And with some of the stuff we've seen, where kids were involved, I think if they knew what happened, they'd be acting much differently."

Melissa put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. After a few moments, she spoke. "I have to tell them their father's dead... I don't know how. They're too young to deal with this, they just lost their grandpa."

Sam nodded and reached across the table to put a hand on her shoulder, not expecting that she would jump. He withdrew his hand quickly, "Sorry, sorry."

"Sorry, it's just, I've got a damaged nerve. Don't worry about it."

Sam looked out the window, hoping to get some way to change the subject. He spotted Dean, sitting on the tree branch drinking the beer, and Castiel standing nearby, but then Melissa was speaking again.

"Something is wrong. Really wrong. I've been able to feel it for weeks, now, Castiel's been trying to help me figure out what it is. I know that it's dark, powerful, and it wants my boys. It just hasn't been able to get to them, yet." Melissa said, rubbing her temple with her thumb.

* * *

Castiel walked toward Dean in no real rush. Dean was hanging his head, but he looked up when Castiel approached. Dean's expression was hard to read, but certainly pained. Castiel handed him the beer.

"Well, I don't usually drink imports, but I've heard this one was pretty good." Dean said, trying to get his mind off the track it was currently stuck on.

"Melissa would prefer to keep the rest of the tree intact." Castiel said, looking at the place where Dean had removed the branch.

"Yeah," Dean answered him, "I was just taking off the dead part, can't have these kids climbing dead branches, it's not safe."

"The children prefer to ride their dirt bikes on the all-terrain vehicle trail in the trees beyond the barn." Castiel said. Out of nowhere, feelings of sadness were washing over him. He wanted to protect something, end some unknown heartbreak...

Dean grinned, "Wish I'd had time for that as a kid. Cas, you okay?"

Castiel tried to shake the feeling, when suddenly he was struck with a white-hot flash of fear that made him gasp... He was thankful it disappeared quickly.

"I'm... adjusting."

"She gets agitated a lot, don't she?" Dean looked at the house. "What, is she pissed off about the tree?"

"Its not the tree, Dean." Castiel said, "Whatever killed her ex husband was coming for her children."

Dean stood up slowly, his legs having cramped. "Over my dead body."

Dean drained the rest of the beer, and stretched, looking around. "How safe is this place, exactly?"

"There are powerful wards covering the entire plot of land. Unless you've seen the address written down, like I showed you when I sent the message to Sam, you would drive past it thinking it was uninhabited. There are protection spells on the house, the barn, and even on the children themselves, including one that deflects danger that can't be neutralized." Castiel said, suddenly trying not to laugh.

"What's funny about that?"

"I, huh, I don't know," Castiel said, trying for a more sober expression and failing. Dean was suddenly reminded of doped-up-future-Cas from one of his many time traveling episodes. It made him uncomfortable, but it passed quickly.

"Cas, what the hell, man? Is she mojoing you right now?"

Castiel shook his head, still smiling slightly. "She's not doing anything to me, Sam is trying to cheer her up."

Dean looked fed up. "How long until you're normal again?"

"You mean unaffected by her mood?" Dean nodded. "About two and a half days, depending on how much grace she's supplied."

Dean heard an engine down the road and turned toward it. A yellow school bus was slowing down, and stopped where the driveway met the road. He watched as Dylan and Johnny came around from the passenger side, loudly yapping about pokemon cards. Dylan waved at someone in the bus as it pulled away, and they continued to the house.

Dylan looked Dean dead in the eyes as he walked, with disapproval. It was just for a moment, but Dean's heart wrenched when he realized what he had failed to place before.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, not needing an entire question.

Dean looked at Castiel, then went back to watching the two boys going to the house. He spoke softly... "He looks just like my dad."

* * *

"So, what do you do? Cas never said." Sam decided to broach the subject.

"Full time mom, lately. You wouldn't know it, looking around here, but I'm actually a trust-fund baby. My dad made a killing in computers by getting into it in the late 70s and early 80s, so with the money situation handled, he started a few businesses, a couple of non-profits, the corporation runs the whole thing, and my brother and I each get a check every month. But my dad never got used to spending money, so neither did I. I keep busy by volunteering, the school, the library, nursing homes, soup kitchens, charity stuff."

"Saintly stuff?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I have no idea." Melissa shook her head.

"I wonder what the pope would think," Sam started to laugh, "We could get our angel of the Lord out there to swoop into the Vatican, and tell him 'hey, this wiccan Unitarian Universalist is your new boss.'"

Melissa laughed. "Nah, the pope is supposed to answer only to God."

"Cas tried to be God, once. That got... weird."

Melissa wiped at her eyes. "Oh, my goodness... my kids will be home soon, their dad is dead, and I'm sitting here laughing. Can't wait for stuff to get back to normal."

Sam was quiet for a moment, waiting for his smile to fade. "Are you going to miss him?"

Melissa's face went a bit more grim than Sam would have expected. "My children are going to miss him. My kids are going to be hurt by this. That's what hurts me about it. Otherwise, it's kind of hard to care."

"That bad, huh?" Sam asked, his voice soft.

"I said some things in the hospital... I was out of it. You understand, right?" Melissa asked, trying not to look Sam in the eye.

"Yeah, I do. Dean will get that, too." Sam was quiet for a moment. "So, no idea what this thing is, how do you know it's coming?"

"That's a long story."

"I want to help. Dean said your mom was a hunter, and Cas said you were adopted, anything you'd feel like talking about?" Sam probed.

"My mom was pregnant when she met my dad, Rich, and when I was born they decided to put his name on the birth certificate because my birth father wasn't around. I guess word got back to him later. My mom split when I was two years old, I don't remember her, but if Castiel's right, she was probably trying to keep me safe. My birth father came and talked to my dad soon after that, or that's what my dad told me later. He said my birth father told him he wanted to make sure I was in a good home, but if my dad had any plans to give me back to my mom, to call him first. I guess he was ready to just disappear to keep things from getting complicated, but my dad talked him into dropping in when he could, asked him to try to get to know me." Melissa had started by speaking fairly easily, but began to stutter a bit as she went.

"There was a contract they had, my dad wanted to make sure if anything happened to him, that I'd go live with my birth father... I'm really glad that didn't happen." Melissa said quietly.

"Me too." Sam looked out the window at his brother. "Listen, do you, uh-"

"There's the bus." Melissa said, grateful for the interruption.

Melissa met her sons on the porch, with Castiel and Dean not far behind.

As Dean went to wash up, Castiel got roped into playing a video game with Johnny and Melissa sat Dylan down with his homework in the children's room. Sam took it as an opportunity to slip out to the Impala and get his father's journal. He sat on the passenger seat, door wide open, feet on the ground as he flipped to Tara's picture. He looked at the back again.

In the bright sunlight, he could it make out. The pen marks in the paper under the smudged ink spelling out a name. "Calls her Mitzy."

Sam slipped the photo into his shirt pocket and put the journal back in the glove box.

* * *

Dean splashed water on his face trying to cool off. That kid's eyes, his fathers eyes, still followed him in his mind.

He wished he could speak to his father. Not just Adam, but he hid Melissa as well. Was he afraid Dean was going to ruin things for them as well, or was he just content not to tell them they had a sister?

A thought crossed Dean's mind for a split second. How many women, in how many bars over the years, and somewhere out there, he had a sister he didn't know about.

Dean let that thought go as fast as possible, but it added to the anger he felt toward John.

He looked in the mirror, thankful for his mother's fairer coloring, something to remind him that while he was his father's son, he could also be a different kind of man.

He went back out to the living room.

Johnny, clearly a happy child, was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, with Castiel by his side. Both were holding wireless game controllers.

"Oh, I hit you with a turtle!" he yelled.

Castiel kept looking at his hands, pressing buttons seemingly at random. "Why is this considered recreational? It appears to be chaos."

Dean watched the screen for a few seconds. "Cas, are you playing as Princess Peach?"

Castiel looked up. "Johnny said this character was able to drive faster."

Johnny looked directly at Castiel and said loudly, "I lied! I just wanted to see if you'd be the girl."

Dean bust out laughing. He reached out a hand, and Castiel passed him the controller. He sat down on the recliner behind the two of them, and quickly figured out the controls. It wasn't too difficult to make up a couple of laps against a kindergartener, at which point he stood up, "There ya go, Cas, you're in the lead."

Dean looked around for Sam, and saw him coming back up to the front door from outside. He slipped out onto the porch. "Where did you run off to?"

Sam just shrugged. "Well that's specific. Listen, she's going to have to tell the kids, maybe we should wait and tell her the rest later."

Sam looked over Dean's shoulder to the screen door behind him, then back to Dean.

"She heard all of that because she's right behind me." Dean guessed.

Sam nodded. Melissa stepped out onto the porch. "Whatever it is, just spill it."

Dean started to stumble over choosing the right words. Sam put a hand on his shoulder, "Dude, just shut up."

With his other hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and held out the small photo to Melissa. "You have pictures of your mom, right? This is her, Tara?"

Melissa took the photo. "Yeah, it is. Where did you get it?"

Dean piped up, "Our dad kept it in his journal."

Melissa's face made it clear she hadn't made the connection just yet.

"Turn it over." Sam said, "See where it says 'Calls her Mitzy?' That's you, isn't it?"

Melissa's face went blank. Dean would have preferred to see her angry, or worse, devastated, but the blank, empty expression chilled him.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Don't ever fucking call me that again."

She turned around and went back into the house.


	9. Chapter 9

(A/N: Brace yourself.)

* * *

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before following her back into the house, keeping some distance. She was moving slow and deliberately, maybe even robotic.

She turned the corner to go into the hallway, and Dean caught her elbow, "Can we please talk about this?"

Sam waited, not wanting to crowd the hallway. He was pushed aside by Castiel, harder than he would ever have expected.

Castiel was between Dean and Melissa in a split second, one hand on Dean's throat. In a gravelly tone, he ground out, "What did you do?"

Dean let go of Melissa immediately. "We told her. You wanted us to tell her, remember?"

Melissa kept walking. Sam didn't feel like he could trust the look on Castiel's face. "Melissa, wait! Your kids!"

Melissa stopped.

Sure enough, when Sam looked back to Castiel's eyes, they were beginning to glow white.

"You have to stay calm, Cas is a mess because you're hurting, and that's not safe for anyone. Please."

Melissa turned around and looked at the three men in the hallway. Dean, grasping Cas' arm, Cas with his hand around Dean's throat, and Sam stuck behind them both trying to get her to relax.

"You all need to go."

"Melissa..." Sam started.

"Take Castiel with you. I need some time to breathe."

Castiel's eyes faded to his usual blue as he watched her shut herself in her room at the end of the hall. He didn't move. Dean was watching for Castiel's next reaction, and didn't move either.

Sam shook his head at both of them and physically removed Castiel's hand from Dean.

* * *

Dean glanced at Castiel in the rear view mirror several times on the drive back to the motel. He thought he could see a range of emotions cross his friend's face every time he looked.

He looked over at his brother once or twice as well, under the guise of checking his mirror. He was glad Sam had talked Melissa down enough to get out of there, but he wasn't sure they'd be any safer with Castiel with them.

"Cas... you know, we weren't trying to upset her, you understand that, right? We were actually talking about letting it wait until this stuff with her kids settled down, but then she was right there, and wanted to know. In fact, you could even say she demanded that we tell her."

Castiel looked rattled. "I don't know what happened. I only know she was upset. She's still upset."

Sam turned in his seat a bit. "It could be past trauma. Cas, if you had just told us, or told her before all of this, it wouldn't have happened this way."

"I see that now," Castiel said, "But I still feel it would have been inappropriate. I don't go around telling people who they're related to, it's not any of my business."

For a few minutes they were all silent.

"Cas, yesterday, you said you choose to be a guardian of every living Winchester." Dean said, "How many?"

"Five. It would be six if Adam were removed from the cage."

Dean tried to ignore the sting that came with the reminder of his other younger brother's fate, and quickly continued. "Okay, so there's us, Melissa, and her boys, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Nobody else we might need to know about?"

"No."

Dean pulled into a parking space close to the door of the room, getting out and going straight for it.

Castiel was shaking slightly. Sam noticed and opened the back door to try to help him to his feet. "Sam, I don't like this feeling... I think she's telling her children about their father."

Sam gently pulled Castiel out of the car, closing the door, and guided him into the motel room.

Castiel sat down heavily at the table. Dean flopped onto the couch unceremoniously, tired from his wrestling match with the tree. Sam closed the door, and leaned back onto it, looking back and forth between Castiel and Dean for a moment. Finally he spoke. "Okay, I don't know about you guys, but I need a salad."

Dean barely looked up. "Grab me a burger?"

Sam noddded. "Cas?"

Castiel's eyes were full of sorrow and confusion, but also physical pain. "I don't require food at this time."

Sam shrugged, "You can come along, if you want."

Castiel just looked down and shook his head.

Sam got the keys from Dean and left.

Dean dragged himself off the couch, and silently headed into the bathroom. After a few moments, Castiel could hear the shower running.

He was grateful to be alone. He could feel her tears welling up in his eyes, and to a lesser extent, the broken hearts of her children.

* * *

Melissa woke up in her bed around two o'clock in the morning with her sons curled close on either side of her. She had fed them an early dinner of anything they wanted that was on hand, and afterwards, explained that there had been 'an accident,' and that their father had died. She made sure not to tell them they had been in the house with him when it happened, she hoped they'd assume it was a car accident, and not ask too many questions. Following that, there wasn't much else to do but hold them while they cried.

She carefully slipped out from between their overly warm bodies, and made her way to the living room, not bothering to turn on lights. She lay down on the sofa, which she found perfectly comfortable, until about an hour later, when she tried to roll onto her back.

A small toy car had been left on the couch, and pressed into an old scar as she slept...

* * *

Dean had a gun in one hand and a knife in the other before he was awake enough to discern which was in which hand.

Sam, also packing, turned on a lamp as Dean scanned the room.

Castiel had been silent most of the evening, and declared a need to sleep shortly before the two brothers would normally turn in for the night. Needing far less of it, he had decided to use the couch instead of one of the beds. He was still on it, barely, and still asleep.

Clearly caught in a nightmare, Castiel thrashed, another yell building low, then escaping his mouth all at once.

Dean dropped his weapons and went straight to the couch, grabbing Castiel by the ever-present trench coat.

As Dean dragged the angel to his feet, shaking him to wake him, his blue eyes flew open and a plea, genuine begging, slipped from his lips. "Stop cutting me!"

Dean froze. He was still half asleep, running on reflexes alone, but visions of his time in Hell replayed through his mind.

Castiel regained full consciousness, and shortly afterward, his balance. He realized Dean was perfectly still, eyes staring blankly, fists still full of Castiel's coat and jacket.

He tilted his head, about to ask a question, but Dean swallowed hard, and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Sam had gotten to his feet, not knowing what would happen next, and quickly dodged Dean as he moved. He looked back at Castiel. "Are you okay?"

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but they both glanced in the direction Dean had gone when they heard him throw up.

* * *

Melissa's nightmare had ended, but she was too shaken to sleep. She sat slumped on the sofa, the offending toy car placed on the coffee table before her. She looked to the corner at the liquor cabinet her dad used to open during his small get-togethers over sporting events.

No way was she drinking this close to her kids waking up. Today they'd be a mess, they'd need her at the top of her mom-game, special breakfast, reassuring words, and enough snuggles to melt a grinch.

She slid to the floor, back firmly against the front of the sofa, and slipped into meditation.

* * *

Castiel sat awkwardly on the couch.

Dean came out of the bathroom, having brushed his teeth, and stretched out on the bed he had left a short while before, sliding his weapons back into their hidden places.

Sam was sitting on his own bed, flipping through a book to wind down. "Dean, if you're coming down with it, maybe we should head back to the bunker."

Dean lay on his back, one arm over his eyes. His voice was grave. "I'm not sick, Sammy."

Castiel wondered if Dean's reaction was his fault. He looked at Sam, but had no idea what, if anything, Sam had told his brother.

He began to stare at his hands. Feelings of peace and quiet acceptance began to flow through him. He leaned back into the back of the couch, closing his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Sam turning the lamp off, likely assuming Castiel was going to continue to sleep.

Castiel didn't bother to correct Sam, instead relaxing into the calm waves flowing through his mind.

His grace, and the grace Melissa had supplied him with were still not fully mixed. It would take some time, he knew, but he gently began to prod, testing if there could be some way to speed up the process.

He attempted to fold the new grace into his own, he tried to blend edges of the two, or stir them together, but it was like playing with oil and water in the same dish.

He stopped trying to manipulate the two types of grace, and began to observe.

* * *

Melissa sank deeper than she had intended, and had to struggle not to fall asleep.

In her mind, she could see each sigil carved into the fence posts, each bundle of herbs meticulously buried. She could feel the glowing light she had wrapped her children in, and the waves of dreams emanating from them. The golden shielding surrounding the house and the barn, the blue bubble hiding the land around the house from harm. Mentally she checked them, making certain everything was still secure.

In her trance, things looked very different from the waking world. And in the distance, there was a dark cloud, too low, and too intense to be any kind of weather pattern. It was the size of a large house, and it was looking for them. She had hidden her children well, but the glow was too obvious.

"Castiel..." she whispered.

In the motel room, Castiel turned away from his shifting graces and looked for her voice, the only thing he needed to find himself at her side. She was watching the cloud searching the low hills, coming closer all the time.

Finally it hovered over the road, and they could see them, large black beasts resembling dogs. They were sniffing, looking for a way in, to get onto the land.

"I don't think we have any time left. And I don't know what to do."

Castiel took her hand. It was a human gesture, meant to comfort a human, but not one he had used of his own volition very often. He felt awkward, but hoped it didn't show. "Yes, you do. You're afraid of the pain it'll bring you. You're afraid to ask for help."

Castiel turned to face Melissa directly. It was much easier to feel her thoughts in this space. She had basically welcomed him into her mind while he held a residue of her soul inside of his grace. "You cannot consider them the sons of your father. They are not him. They are your brothers, and they want to keep you safe."

Everything started to turn grey and brown as pain swept over them both.

"So did he." Melissa stated, a hint of poison in her words.

The alternate state of being was beginning to fade away. She squeezed his hand. "Bring them over, I'm already awake."

Castiel found himself in total darkness, and then opened his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N: Pretty sure things are about to get crazy in the next chapter. This one is slow, but I thought it was worth it. )

* * *

The Impala pulled up to the house shortly before dawn. Sam was still stretching as he made it to the door. He was about to knock when he realized the front door was open.

Castiel walked past him, going straight into the house, motioning Sam and Dean to follow him quietly.

Melissa stood at the stove making scrambled eggs. The coffee pot on the counter was one cup short of full, and the table contained a stack of plates and forks, a platter of pancakes, syrup, and a large plate of bacon.

"Hey..." Sam said, mostly to break the silence.

"Sorry I flipped out yestday." Melissa said, just loud enough to be audible. "I wasn't expecting that... and the last person who called me Mitzy was an abusive asshole."

Sam nodded, "Won't happen again, I promise."

"So..." Dean said, trying to keep things from getting too quiet. "You're our baby sister. We didn't expect that, either."

Melissa nodded. "It's the same car... Isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Melissa kept stirring. "I guess I didn't notice because it's been a while... You took the alley-spotters off."

Sam took a coffee mug out of the drain rack to pour a cup. "Yeah, Dean rebuilt the car after our dad died, didn't seem to be any sense in putting them back on."

Melissa was quiet for a moment, as Castiel, wandering around the living room, came back into the breakfast nook. "Didn't know he passed away... Sorry."

Dean looked at Castiel. "You didn't tell her?"

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, not your place, got it."

Dean looked back at Melissa, "Since Cas hasn't been too good about keeping people informed lately, I'll go ahead and tell you, I met your mom a few years back. I only talked to her for a few minutes, but she was really something else. She died fighting."

Melissa shut her eyes hard for a moment. "Thanks."

She took out a large bowl and moved the eggs to it, setting it on the table then going back to the counter for her coffee cup, finally sitting down. "Dig in."

After a few moments, she spoke again. "My kids aren't safe here. Something is after them, and it's what killed their dad. It almost got through last night."

Dean glanced at Castiel, wondering if that was what had set off his nightmare.

"Still no idea what it is?" Sam asked, dishing up some eggs as Dean got up for coffee.

Melissa shook her head.

"During pregnancy, a child leaves cells behind that live on in the mother's body for the rest of the mother's life." Castiel said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thanks for that, Cas, but the humans are talking." Dean said, having nearly spit out his coffee.

Castiel turned to Dean. "Melissa can, with enough power, direct the danger to follow those abandoned cells, while the children are moved to a safer location. We have discussed this previously."

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, and turned to Melissa. "You said you have a brother in Birmingham, right?"

"Yeah, my dad got married when I was really young, my step mom died when I was twelve, but Chase and his wife, Leann, they're supposed to take my kids if anything happened to me and ... well, I guess their dad isn't an issue."

Sam continued, "So, how safe would they be, there?"

Melissa thought about it, "Chase knows what I do, and Leann does some of it herself, but she's not as strong. Last summer we went for a visit, and I helped them ward their place, since it's a lot bigger than this."

"So, pretty safe."

"Yeah."

"Then," Sam continued, "we'd have to split you and the kids, get the kids to Alabama, and anything coming after them would follow you. I guess we take you to the-, err, our base of operations, and see what follows you there. Once you're inside, you should be safe while we figure out how to take out whatever comes after you."

Dean leaned on the counter, looking at the two of them. He hated splitting up from Sam knowing there was any kind of danger coming, but he understood.

Castiel hadn't sat down, but continued to wander around the kitchen, at one point taking a strip of bacon from the plate on the table. Dean sat back down and watched him as he helped himself to pancakes. He was vaguely aware of Sam and Melissa's conversation changing. Dean thought back to what Castiel had said... _before I pulled you out of Hell_... No wonder she was so comfortable with Castiel roaming her home like a misplaced alien and acting weird, he must have been doing it for years.

Dylan appeared, standing in the hallway, looking through the kitchen, looking too tired and too sad to care what was going on. He was dragging a large plush fish by the tail, and wasn't wearing his glasses. He rubbed his eyes at the light, then walked to table, mumbling, "I smell bacon."

Melissa had just taken a bite, and was chewing faster to answer him, but Dean waved him closer, moving out the chair next to him, "Yeah, there's bacon. C'mon."

Dylan put his fish on the chair and climbed up to sit on it, earning an odd look from Dean. This kid was in second grade, and pretty big for his age, so he certainly didn't need a booster.

"You like pancakes, too?" Dean asked. Dylan nodded, and Dean put one on his plate. Up close, he noticed Dylan's freckles were about the same shade as his own. He put a few strips of bacon on the plate as well as Dylan started to munch groggily.

Dean looked up, and noticed Castiel had vanished. Sam and Melissa were still talking, but murmurs were coming from down the hall. He got up to check on his friend.

Dean walked down the hallway quietly, and came to the door Melissa had shut herself behind the day before. It was open by a few inches. Castiel was standing in the middle of the floor, holding Johnny. The child was a sobbing, blubbering mess on Castiel's shoulder.

"It's going to be alright." Castiel said, trying to soothe him.

"My daddy is dead forever!"

Castiel started to speak quietly, telling Johnny about Heaven.

Dean slipped away, back to the kitchen.

* * *

Sam followed Dean outside as Castiel led Johnny by the hand to the table. He wasn't crying anymore.

Dean got far enough from the screen door that he was sure they could talk without upsetting the children.

"Okay, so she's got to make this spell work, and we've got to get her on the way to the bunker before we try to move the kids, to make sure it's working." Dean said quickly.

Sam shrugged, "But we won't know right away if it's working."

"No, we won't, until something rears it's ugly head. Cas said on the way over that he could see it coming, right? So she can see where it is, and so can he. We'll get everything the kids need loaded into the Impala, and have Cas stay here, if he sees it following us, you wait until it's out of range, and head for Birmingham. That way, if it doubles back, Cas is still close by. If it keeps following her, he can zap himself to wherever we are."

"Wait, you want me to take the kids? In the Impala?" Sam asked, trying to reject both ideas.

"Yeah. I know Baby inside and out, there's no chance you'll break down, can't guarantee that with any other car. And I don't think she wants me around her kids, after the whole trying to kill her thing."

They turned at the sound of the screen door. Castiel came over to join them.

"How's the kid?" Dean asked.

"Johnny required sprinkles but he is eating now."

Sam shook his head, "I don't think I can do this."

Dean scoffed, "It's not that hard, man."

"Not when you've been taking care of a kid since you were a kid." Sam answered.

"Hey, if I managed as a kid, you can manage as an adult. Just don't get drunk and yell, and you'll do fine." Dean turned to Castiel, "How's your mojo doing? You strong enough to zap yourself around?"

"Yes, if it's just me. I will need to rest between flying, though." he said. His cheek flinched and he looked at the door he'd come through a moment before.

"What about your psychic PMS?" Dean continued.

Castiel looked confused.

"Mood swings, outbursts. You likely to freak out if she gets angry?" Dean asked, studying Castiel's face.

"She's not likely to be angry for a while. She's about to be removed from her children, who lost their father yesterday." Castiel replied. "Her pain is fairly high, but I'm not experiencing it as intensely as I was yesterday."

"Okay, so we'll need to start getting things ready, how long is this spell going to take?"

* * *

Melissa sat at the table looking at her children.

Anything. Even trying to call her birth father. Anything to protect them.

She understood she was going to throw herself to the wolves with this plan, even if her newfound brothers and celestial friend seemed optimistic.

Anything... So why was it so hard to know she was going to be separated from them?

It struck her painfully, and suddenly. When she sent them off on their way to 'spend part of the summer' at Uncle Chase and Aunt Leann's house, it could be the last time she would see them. In a month, in a week, even tomorrow, perhaps they'd be orphans.

She looked around the nook, the kitchen, the living room... There was no guarantee that they would ever see this home again. How much would they remember? Of their lives before this danger started hunting them? Of their father? Of their home? Of her?

She couldn't do this to her kids, not today. There would be time enough to cry, scream, and punch things later. They needed her now.

"Guys, something I want to tell you... Remember last summer when we went to visit Uncle Chase? He had that big house, and we all rode horses, and went swimming, and we had that bonfire?"

Dylan nodded, continuing to eat. Johnny piped up, "Yeah, and I found that grass snake and Uncle Chase made me put it back."

"Right. Well, I wanted to do that again this summer, but there's some business stuff I have to take care of first, in Dallas. Boring stuff. It's going to take a few days."

Johnny started to whine loudly, remembering the last time there'd been an issue large enough to require his mother's attention at the Faulkner Corporation, shortly following his grandpa's death. "I don't want to wait in the office for days!"

"I know, I know," Melissa continued, satisfied with Johnny's reaction, which Dylan seemed to share, still chewing with a disgusted eye-roll. "So I was thinking you can go right away, and get there, start having fun, and I'll get done with the boring stuff super fast, and get to Uncle Chase's house right away when it's done."

Dylan, mouth finally empty for a moment, answered. "I like that plan better."

* * *

Sam came out of the house carrying a medium sized suitcase. Dean was moving the children's booster seats from Melissa's van into the back seat of the Impala.

Castiel stood next to the car, looking at a worn installation manual that had fallen from the back of one of their boosters. "Dean, does your car have a L.A.T.C.H. system?"

Sam set the suitcase in the passenger side floor. "What's a Latch system?"

Dean, upper body inside the car as he wrestled with the seats, spoke loudly. "It's a feature to strap kids and babies in safer, and it's only in cars that aren't classics, so no, it doesn't have that."

Dean stood up, closing the car door, "But they'll be fine... Just don't hit, or get hit by anything, right Sam?"

Sam shook his head. This whole thing with the kids was making him increasingly uncomfortable, and Dean was caught between reveling in it, and trying to encourage him.

Dylan and Johnny, now dressed, came out of the house.

"We don't have to go to school today." Dylan said, bluntly. Dean nodded.

Johnny walked over to the Impala, peaking into the window. "Why are our seats in your car?"

"Because I'm taking you to visit your Uncle Chase." Sam said, trying to sound confident.

"Is my mom going to Dallas alone?" Johnny sounded worried.

"No! No, absolutely not. I'll go with her." Dean said, looking down at the smaller boy. "I'll keep her safe, and get her back to you as fast as possible."

Dean realized as the children wandered off to play, that he had just made a promise he might not be able to keep.


	11. Chapter 11

(A/N: That last chapter was pretty boring, but felt necessary. There's something missing, but I can fix that.

Thanks for reading!)

* * *

The time came at about 2 pm. The spell had been worked, both Castiel and Melissa were exhausted and somewhat cranky.

Dean had tried to get Sam and the children toss a football around, but the youngsters were more interested in throwing rocks at a tree stump behind the house.

Melissa had written down everything she could think of that Sam might need to know concerning the boys, gave him a spare key both to lock up, and just in case they had to double back for safety. She had also given him an emergency credit card she kept available with a particularly high limit, while making a crack about spur of the moment trips to Tijuana.

She had come out of the house in jeans, western boots, and a blazer over a loose blouse. She had also put on just enough make up to be noticeable.

After hugging her children, assuring them she'd be in Alabama with them as fast as possible, she put her suitcase in the back of her van.

Dean shook Sam by the shoulder. "You got this, Sammy."

Sam scoffed. "Hope so. Get there in one piece, alright?"

Dean nodded, and got into the passenger side of the minivan.

"One more hug, momma!" Johnny said, running up to her. She wrapped her arms around him, lifting him off the ground just a little. She turned to Dylan, who threw his arms around her waist, and hoisted. Just an inch or two, but she did leave the ground.

Dean watched through the window, wondering for a moment how old he would have been if he'd ever been able to lift his mother.

"Okay, I gotta go. Show Sam where I keep the ice cream..." she said, pulling Johnny into the same hug with his brother. "I love you both, very much."

Melissa got into the van, and pulled out onto the road. About a quarter of a mile from the house, Dean glanced at her, and noticed the tears on her cheeks. He looked away, quickly, considering what he could say to try to make it better.

He could describe the bunker, and how she'd be safe there, tell her that he knew Sam would keep her kids safe, or ask about how she had met Castiel... but nothing seemed to fit.

Dean started to get angry with his inability to find the right thing to say, and compulsively reached for the radio.

Classical music came through the speakers at a far clearer tone than he was used to. It was deep tones, a slow beat, and heavy on the cellos. A violin came into it with a weeping tune.

"Not that." Melissa said, wiping at her cheek and sniffling.

"Okay," Dean said, and pressed a preset button. He hadn't heard this before, but it didn't suck. "This okay?"

She nodded. "We'll be in Waco in about an hour, and Dallas in about two and a half. I need to stop at the corporate offices, it should only take a few minutes."

Dean smiled, "Wow, you've got a vegetable garden and a barn, and corporate offices... You really have it all, huh?"

"I want my kids to have balance, like I did."

"No, no, I get it. And they seem really great, you know. You must be a good mom. Kids don't turn out that cool and easy going if they have problems at home."

Melissa didn't answer. When the song ended, commercials came on. Dean hit another preset. He recognized a few notes as Ramble On, and left it.

Dean pulled out his phone, having nothing to do with his hands.

He selected 'Cas' and sent a text. 'Is it following us?'

He put his phone down, trying to seem cool, glancing at Melissa. He felt strange, knowing they were deliberately trying to get something large and dangerous to come after her.

His phone chirped. Castiel had responded, 'Yes, but it is moving slowly. We will wait a while longer.'

* * *

Dean wasn't sure when he nodded off, but he woke up to the familiar sound of rustling feathers.

Melissa immediately asked about her children.

"They're fine, the danger is following you, and didn't notice them leaving, but it seems to be picking up speed." Castiel responded.

Dean looked for a mile marker. "Where are we at?"

"Almost to Waxahachie." Melissa answered.

Dean nodded and put his head back down against the head rest.

Zzzzz

Sam decided to try to avoid the traffic in Houston, and pulled into a diner in Conroe. The children had been talking about food, and it was attached to a gas station. "You guys hungry? I bet this place is good."

Dylan unbuckled and leaned over the back of the front seat. "How can you tell?"

Sam shrugged. "Look, they have a cartoon chef on the window. That means the food is good."

Dylan looked skeptical.

Johnny bounced out of his seat, "I wanna grilled cheese sandwich!"

When Sam finally got them corralled into a booth, the waitress came by with a menu, two kids menus, and some crayons.

"Okay, let's see what they got. Can you guys read yet?"

"I can read. Johnny doesn't know how." Dylan replied.

"Yeah, I can!" Sam worried he would be heard through the whole diner, and tried to shush him.

"But Dylan said I don't know how to read. He's lying!"

"Okay, you can read, here, read your menu, that'll show him, then we won't have to yell about it." Sam said quickly.

Johnny opened up his menu, and began to list foods. Some were not actually listed. "Good, that's really good reading, Johnny. So, you want grilled cheese? What else?"

"Cake."

"I meant like a vegetable?"

"Carrot cake."

"Okay." Sam said, "I'm going to get the grilled chicken and a salad, and if you get, like, some broccoli, or potatoes with the grilled cheese, then cake would be fine."

Dylan huffed. "If you eat vegetables, you don't have room for cake."

The waitress came back with their drinks. "They are so cute! What grades are they in?"

Sam nearly panicked. Thankfully Johnny mispronounced kindergarten just well enough to distract her. The thought suddenly crossed Sam's mind that here he was in the middle of nowhere with two kids who weren't his own, attempting to book it across state lines. And he had met them the day before yesterday.

Yep, that didn't sound suspicious at all.

* * *

Castiel shifted in the middle row of the minivan, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't flying. Not that he minded, as Melissa and Dean were both there, and that was a comforting thought. He looked at Dean, who was very still, his breathing deep and even with sleep.

Melissa continued to drive. They were in Dallas now, and she pulled into an underground garage below the Faulkner Corporation offices. She pulled into a reserved spot, hanging a placard from the rear view mirror.

She pulled down her visor, opening a small mirror and repaired the damage tears had done to her makeup.

Castiel watched her small, perfectionist movements. She never seemed to notice, and unless and until she did, he would observe. She would brush her hair, tie it back or pin it up, or perhaps just remove the snarls before she went to sleep. Her eye makeup, a delicate blending of colors, or her lipstick, one he truly preferred to see applied... there was something about the way she did these things, it felt as though it should have been done in private, just between her and her mirror, that made his heart race. As if the only decent behavior would be to look away, and so he followed her every move... Certainly if his gaze bothered her, she would have asked- no, told him to look away, or leave. Otherwise, he concluded, she either didn't mind, didn't notice, or secretly enjoyed his watchful gaze. The last option intrigued him.

She closed the mirror, and put her concealer back into her purse, then reached over to smack Dean lightly on the upper arm. "You coming, or you want to sit in the van?"

"No, no, I'm good. I'm with you. What are we doing?"

"Guardianship papers. That way, if I don't make it to Alabama, my brother won't have any trouble proving the kids are supposed to be in his care. Makes things easier for school, doctor's visits, that kind of thing. Also gives him complete control of the corporation, should my dead body turn up."

Dean was still a little groggy from the nap, but suddenly had an intense urge to hug her, and tell her she was going to be fine. He shut that shit down immediately. "Okay, well, anything you need to do, we're with you. Right, Cas?"

Castiel's eyes landed distractedly on Dean's face. "Yes, we're with you."

* * *

Sam felt exhausted. Mentally he compared the argument concerning the vegetables to the act of exorcism. He wasn't sure which one was more taxing. He had convinced the children that vegetables were the reason he was so 'big and strong,' resulting in a few bites from each of them. Still, very tiring.

He walked them to the door of the diner, at which point they took off running around the corner of the building to the place where he had parked the Impala. He hurried to catch up, but the moment he rounded the corner, he heard a familiar voice say a few familiar words, in a familiar accent, chilling him to the bone.

"Hello, _little_ boys..."

* * *

Finally back in the parking garage, Melissa shed her blazer right before she got in the van. Dean was surprised that without the blazer and couple of hairpins, she suddenly went back to looking like herself. The same caring, innocent person he had grabbed by the mouth, placing a gun to her head just two days ago.

She threw the blazer into the back seat as she got in, just-past-shoulder-length hair giving a swing.

"North, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, head for Kansas. Cas," he said, turning to where Castiel was settling himself, "How much distance did this stop cost us?"

"Not much, it's still moving slowly, but it is aware of where we are."

"Okay, maybe we should put a few miles behind us before we find a spot to stop for the night." Dean replied.

"We're not going to drive straight through?" Melissa asked.

"Well, we could, I wasn't sure you'd be up to it. Tell you what, head north and when you get tired, we'll switch." Dean said.

Melissa shrugged, not answering. If Dean had to hazard a guess, he would suppose she was already very tired. He wasn't sure she had much more in her.

* * *

"Boys, get straight into the car, don't talk to him. He's dangerous."

"Sam, please. If I were going to do anything to these delightful darlings, I would have done it when you left the table to powder your nose." Crowley said. "Really, it's a wonder they were still there when you came back. Children so precious as these must be protected ever so carefully."

He held out a tootsie pop for each of them. Sam stepped forward, "No. Don't trust him, get in the car, now."

Sam didn't like hearing a demanding order coming out of his mouth. He sounded just like his father. Thankfully, the voice that bothered him so much seemed to be effective, and the children scrambled past Crowley, buckling into their seats and watching urgently through the window.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam asked directly.

"To keep my throne." Crowley emphasized each word. "Can't do that if Lucifer comes out to play. These dear poppets need to be kept under lock and key. The boot might be safer for them, if that demon trap is still intact."

Sam looked confused.

"These two brothers carry Winchester blood, and Campbell blood. Who might cross your moosey mind as wanting to gain hold of them?"

It clicked. "Anyone wanting to open the cage and try again." Sam gasped. "Who?"

"A few dissenting malcontents from each faction, possibly working together. I know they're chasing mummy dearest, but if they figure it out, they'll be after the children straight away. So get them out of here. And know this: should your mother-quest plan fail, I'll be coming for the children myself." Crowley stated, then vanished.

Sam jumped into the driver's seat, pulling out of the parking lot as fast as he could. He pulled out his phone. At the risk of the children hearing, he used voice-to-text to send Dean a message.

* * *

Dean's phone chirped once again. 'Crowley says dissenters want them for another go at a final battle. Move fast.'

"Melissa... you about ready for some dinner?" Dean tried to fake a yawn.

"I'm not really hungry." Melissa said quietly. She probably had a lot on her mind.

"Maybe we get some drive-thru, and I'll take over for a while. You stop driving for a bit, you might be ready to eat." Dean hoped he sounded convincing.

* * *

(A/N, again: Omg, Crowley. Love that character. Hope I got his words right. One more bit I really, really want him for, after that, he might get out back in the toy box. We'll see.)


	12. Chapter 12

(A/N: This chapter is going to get into something very uncomfortable, but not too graphic yet. It will be more intense in the very beginning of the next chapter. You've been warned.)

* * *

Sam made it to Carthage, Texas before he had to stop for the night. He dragged in the suitcase, his duffel, and a bag of weapons, including protective charms.

The boys stumbled into the room, tired of sitting in the car for the better part of the day.

Pajamas and brushing teeth had never seemed like they could be such an ordeal.

He finally got them each into a bed, the bathroom light left on because Dylan felt nervous, and ran out once again to get some specific stuffed animal from the car.

All Sam wanted was to stretch out on the couch, and get a couple of hours, was that too much to ask? Evidently, yes, because Johnny was out of bed again. "I need a story."

"Johnny, I need to sleep now. So do you. Go get in your bed."

"But I can't sleep without a story."

"I want a story, too. With caterpillars and goats. Maybe and some goaterpillars." Dylan piped up from his bed.

Sam was on his last straw. If it wasn't one being needy, it was the other being weird as hell.

"No. Go to sleep." Sam lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.

After a little while, Johnny had gotten back into his bed, he heard him crying. He felt bad for the kid, none of this was fair to them, but he had no idea what he was doing. Dean could have fixed it, but Dean was, hopefully, half way to the bunker getting chased down by psychos trying to restart the apocalypse.

He lifted himself onto an elbow, searching for words to calm the child and get him to rest, but instead, he watched as Dylan got out of his own bed and climbed in with Johnny.

Sam lay back down, listening to quiet whispers.

"I want mom."

"Me too, but it's gonna be okay."

"What about the scary guy?"

"He won't get us. Sam has guns."

"I want a gun."

"No, you're too little. But maybe I can get a gun. I'll ask Sam in the morning. Then I'll keep us safe."

Sam shook his head. Not even an entire day, and already these kids were being fucked up from this crap.

A fresh wave of a combination of heartache and appreciation for Dean hit Sam strongly.

* * *

Castiel had finally talked Melissa into letting Dean drive, and trying to get some sleep. Thankfully she didn't leave the back row of the minivan up, and it was quite flat in the back. With her diminutive height, she would be able to rest without a problem.

Castiel sat in the passenger seat, occasionally taking a look over his shoulder at her, between the two bucket seats in the middle row.

Dean must have been waiting to make certain she was actually sleeping, because when Castiel stopped paying attention to her, he sped up.

"I don't the sound coming from the transmission," Dean said, in a strained version of a conversational manner. "Remind me to look it over when we get to the bunker. It'll give me something to do while you and Sam find a way to hide those kids permanently."

Dean took out his phone, turning on the screen to Sam's last message. He passed it to Castiel. "That look about right to you?"

"This is terrible news." Castiel answered. "Hopefully drawing them off will make finding the children more difficult once the distraction is realized for what it is."

Dean looked at the gauges and the empty freeway ahead of him. Time to see how much he could open it up.

A few hours later, Castiel was staring out the window, waiting for the sunrise. Dean didn't seem to feel like talking. He was vaguely aware of Melissa beginning to wake. They were about 30 miles from the bunker.

"What the hell?! Slow down!" Melissa had climbed into the seat behind him. Dean jolted, swerving just slightly.

"Are you trying to make me crash?" Dean yelled over his shoulder.

"A blow out at this speed, and we'd crash anyway, what the hell is wrong with you? You topped out the speedometer."

Dean shook his head. "Look, we'll be somewhere safe soon, you can yell at me then. But we got an idea what's after you, and it's bad. I'm not waiting around for it to catch up."

"Stop, I'll drive."

"No."

"...What?"

"I said no. I'm not pulling over."

"It's my fucking van, asshole."

Castiel was beginning to feel intense agitation. "Dean..." he warned.

Dean looked over at him. He knew that look, Castiel was holding himself back.

"Stopping at all puts us in danger. The ones who are after your kids, they could be waiting anywhere. We stop, we take a risk. They see you without the kids, they notice Sam isn't here, they go straight for your kids, probably doing anything they can to get the location out of us. So we keep driving, and keep you alive. As long as they don't realize they're coming after you, they don't go after the kids." Dean waited a moment before taking another look at Castiel. No longer fearing a punch to Dean's face, the weakened angel seemed only a bit stressed.

Dean was tempted to look at Melissa, but decided it would be better to turn the conversation. "Is this sticker right?" he asked, pointing to the small oil-change reminder in the upper corner of the windshield.

"What?" Melissa asked tiredly.

"You're way overdue."

"Whatever, I top it up."

"It's bad for the engine."

"Well unlike some people, I don't plan to keep this van until it's 50 years old." Melissa answered with a healthy dose of snark.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. We've got a decent garage." Dean said.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." Melissa answered.

* * *

Sam woke up, still tired, and with a small figure staring at him in the dim light. The sun hadn't yet risen, and faint light was filtering through the curtains.

"I had a bad dream." Dylan's voice came out heavy with sleep.

"Yeah? What was it?" Sam asked, sitting up.

"I was eating frogs with Johnny because they were too loud, and then this guy came out and chased with a big weird knife." Dylan rubbed his eyes, and climbed onto Sam's lap without an invitation. Sam awkwardly tried to pat his back, rubbing his own eyes with his other hand.

"What did the knife look like?" he asked.

"You know how knives have two sides and they're flat? The weird knife was triangley." Dylan leaned into Sam's shoulder for a minute.

Sam put an arm around Dylan, "You're okay, but if you see anyone with a knife like that, or any knife, you run, okay?"

Dylan nodded and climbed off Sam's lap. "What are we going to eat for breakfast?"

Sam shrugged. "What do you want?"

Johnny stretched and yawned in the bed. "I want pot roast."

* * *

The remainder of the ride to the bunker had been mostly silent. Dean parked the van in the garage, and started taking things into the living area, explaining the Men of Letters, and the things that made the bunker so hard to find to Melissa, as Castiel began walking around, checking to make certain everything was still warded properly.

Dean had just left Melissa to settle in when his phone rang. "Hey, Sam, what's going on?"

"Just made it to Nacogdoches, finally. Listen, Dylan had a bad dream, he said someone was chasing him and Johnny with a big knife. He said it was 'triangley,' and not flat."

"An angel blade." Dean said.

"Exactly. Hang on... yeah, I know, but you said you want pot roast, so that's IHOP or Denny's, they don't... no, I don't want to hug your bear... Can you wait?... Okay, Dean, I have to go, maybe ask Melissa and Cas if that's normal. Catch you later."

"Later." Dean said, hanging up. He turned to Castiel who had just appeared at his side. "Dylan had a nightmare that someone was chasing him and Johnny with an angel blade."

"That's unfortunate, but not completely unexpected." Castiel said, thoughtfully. "He has some mild psychic tendencies. Most children with such gifts are often considered to have an overactive imagination."

"Is that why he acts weird?"

"What do you mean?" Castiel said, genuinely waiting for a response.

Dean was about to respond, but just shook his head. "Nevermind... How about you and Melissa just try and get an idea where the danger is, so we can keep tabs on it."

Castiel nodded and wandered off, and Dean made his way to the library, grabbing his laptop on the way.

* * *

Melissa sat on the edge of the well worn bed in the small room Dean had brought her to. She had meant to start unpacking, but realizing she wasn't also making a place for her children, her will drained out of her. She put her knees on her elbows and dropped her face into her hands, too tired from the all-night drive to even cry.

When she looked up, Castiel was standing in the doorway.

"Are you alright?" he asked. He walked into the room to sit next to her.

She shook her head. "I'm tired, scared, and worried sick, my babies are with someone I really don't know, and I've purposely made something follow me that will probably kill me when it finds me, then it's going after my kids."

"I am sorry to say, that is actually fairly normal for your bloodline in the last few decades." Castiel said.

"Yeah, and it sucks." Dean's voice came from the doorway, he had a few printed papers in one hand, which he was staring at, and a sandwich in the other hand, which he seemed to be cramming into his mouth in as few bites as possible. He continued to stare at the paper and chew as he asked, "What kind of oil does your van take?"

"Dean, this may not be the best time." Castiel said.

Dean, still engrossed in both papers and sandwich, shrugged, mumbled something about it being on the cap, and continued walking.

Castiel turned back to Melissa, finding her looking at the now empty doorway. "Why is messing with my van?"

"He won't damage it." Castiel assured her.

* * *

Dean squeezed out from under the jacked up minivan, knocking the oil collection pan in the process. A significant spill sloshed out of the side away from him as he reached for a flashlight. He slid back underneath, about to close it up, and begin refilling.

"Didja break it, yet?" Melissa's voice came from nearby.

"I don't break cars." Dean said, not sure how to follow that.

"Castiel said you wanted to know how close these creeps are getting, looks to be a ways off, and searching more than tracking, so, it's slowed down, but still coming." Melissa said, moving around the side of the van.

"Good." Dean answered. "Anything that slows them down gives us time to figure out how to take them out, and Sam-"

Melissa had unwittingly stepped into some of the motor oil, and slipped, landing hard on her ass next to the van, scraping her back on the latch of the open door as she fell. The back of her shirt has ripped as well.

Dean turned to look at where she had fallen. She had landed on her side with her back to him. "You okay?"

He through the rip, could see her back as she started to started to get up. Aside from a long red line, he also noticed old scars over the right side of her lower back.

She sat up, "Yeah, no worse for wear."

As she righted herself, Dean realized one of the scars was an anti-possession symbol, and as he lay under the van, it was right side up to him. Something wasn't right.

Dean slid out from under the van, grabbing a rag. Melissa was on her feet now, headed for the door.

"Hold up, c'mere, you're bleeding." Melissa went to keep walking. Dean didn't like how quickly her eyes darted back to the door.

"Castiel can fix that." she muttered.

Dean caught her arm, and she froze, staring at the ground. He lifted the hem of her shirt to the middle of her back. "Okay, it's not so bad," he said, paying far more attention to the old scars than to the wound, "We'll clean it out and bandage it up. You had a tetanus shot in the last 5 years?"

Dean was stalling. Aside from the very hastily carved anti-possession symbol, were two other symbols he didn't recognize at all, but also appeared to be sideways. There were only a couple drops of blood coming from her minor injury, mostly it was a welt, and there would be no need for further attention once Castiel had supplied a quick tap, but Dean noticed she didn't answer, and she didn't move.

Melissa was still staring at the ground, and trying not to move.

"Hey!" Dean immediately regretted speaking loudly, because although he was trying to get her to snap out of it, he only succeeded in making her flinch. He tried to proceed with a softer voice. "What happened to you?"

Melissa didn't move. "I don't want to talk about it."

Dean nodded. "Okay, then we won't talk about it. We'll go get Cas to heal you."

She still didn't move. Dean tossed the rag back over to where the tools still lay on the floor, and put his arms around Melissa's shoulders, careful to avoid the scrape.

It was like she wasn't even in there. She had shut down. He thought back to Castiel's nightmare. _Stop cutting me..._

Dean wanted to ask so many questions. He released one arm and began to guide her through the halls. Sure enough, Castiel appeared, already on his way to them.

"Cas, good timing. Can you heal her back?" Dean asked, attempting to make it sound like no big deal.

"Only the most recent wound, the others are permanent." Dean could have kicked him for that one. Instead he just let go of Melissa and stepped out of the way while Castiel reached for her.

"Okay, so she's probably going to go get cleaned up, oil stains set fast, so why don't you come help me finish up with the van." Dean said.

Castiel followed him to the garage. He could could tell Melissa was moving through the halls again as they walked.


	13. Chapter 13

(A/N: Okay, folks. This one is a toughy. Don't get me wrong, I do like the John Winchester character as a character, but this is just what feels right for the story, and I've been very amused by this story, and I hope you're enjoying it as well

Trigger warning: Abuse, torture, and cuts are mentioned. Seriously. I think I kind of made that clear, but honestly, I want to be certain everyone has ample warning to turn back. Also Dean's dad-issues and hero complex are showing. But you watch the show, you can't be that squeamish.

Got my first review, Thank you, TheAmazingMaya, and thanks for reading!)

* * *

Dean came back out from under the van and started putting oil into the engine.

"So... what are those symbols on her back?" Dean asked.

Castiel seemed uncomfortable with the question. "As you already know, one is an anti-possession symbol. One is to prevent her from being able to make deals with demons regarding her soul, and the other anchors her soul to her body, unless the skin deteriorates or is burned."

"So when she dies, she's stuck inside her body until she's cremated, or the skin decomposes?"

Castiel looked away. "It's not a pleasant thought, I know."

Dean set down the empty bottle and picked up a new one. His voice was quiet, but Castiel could hear him just fine. "My dad did this to her, didn't he?"

"Yes." Castiel said, looking him in the eye.

"Because he thought she was a witch."

Castiel nodded.

Dean wiped his forehead with his wrist. He shook his head, he was furious... "Why are the symbols sideways?"

"He used chloroform to render her unconscious, it doesn't last very long. She was waking up and he had to move quickly, so, as he was standing next to the table-"

Dean cut him off. "Shut up. I don't want to hear any more... You know what I did in Hell, Cas. I know those jagged edges means she was struggling. That's sick. Who could hurt their child like that?"

Castiel wasn't sure if he should try to answer the question. "Each of those symbols were to prevent her from eventually becoming a demon, as happens to most witches. He didn't know what she was,-"

"She was what, 14? Did he try to talk to her, at all?"

"Dean..." Castiel was at a loss for words. "He was wrong. I won't argue that."

Dean sat down next to the tools. "And that one that keeps her in her body even if she dies, there's no way to break that for her?"

"None that I've been able to find, and I have been looking. It has to do with the ingredients that were added into the wounds-" Castiel stopped speaking as a wrench flew from Dean's hand, went across the room, and landed square in the middle of the windshield of one of the antique cars long forgotten by the Men of Letters. Pieces of glass went flying.

* * *

Sam had run out of road trip games to try to teach them, and the children had begun to amuse themselves by yelling insults at each other. Then the kicking started. The kicking ended with one of the children grabbing a shoe off of the other, and hurling it past Sam's head onto the dashboard.

Sam pulled over at the first wide spot in the road and got out of the car. On instinct, he went straight to the trunk. When he realized the idea of zip-tying all four of their collective feet together was an entirely too tempting manner of making the kicking stop, he made himself close the trunk. Dousing them with holy water was still an option...

He got back in the car, and was surprised to be met with complete silence. "Okay. You guys are bored. Really, really bored. I get it. Riding in a car for days, it's awful. What do you want to do?"

The boys looked at him with wide eyes.

"No ideas? Really?"

Dylan looked upset, "Are you going to leave us if we don't act right?"

"What? No!" Sam was incredulous. "Who leaves kids? Kids can't be left by themselves, it's against the law. I was just stretching my legs."

"Our dad said he was going to mail us to China to sew soccer balls." Johnny fussed, then the tears started. "Now he's dead, and he can't mail us anywhere ever again!"

Sam slowly turned to face forward. He was sure this was all Dean's fault, he was just too frazzled to figure out why. He pulled out his phone, looking for any nearby children's entertainment venue that didn't have clowns.

* * *

Castiel had sat next to Melissa's sleeping form for about an hour when strange noises coming from the kitchen drew his interest.

It seemed the more he spoke, the worse the outburst had become, so he thought leaving Dean to process his thoughts would be beneficial.

As he entered the kitchen, Dean was on the floor, barefoot, a quarter full liquor bottle in one hand, and phone to his ear. "Sammy... listen. You're not answering... Pick up the phone, bitch, we gotta talk about dad."

Dean ended the call, tossing the phone to the middle of the floor. His head rolled to the side to address Castiel. "What? You got more shit to tell me about how fucked up this is?"

"No, Dean. I think you're up to speed about how fucked up it is."

Dean laughed at Castiel's halting attempt to reuse his words. "No... no, Cas, I never am. Because every time I think maybe I've hit the limit of how bad things get, it gets worse. And then it gets worse again. But now I find out she's in there, trying to lay down her life for her kids, and this is what her life has been like?"

Dean straightened up where he sat. "I got it figured out, now, Cas. Sammy stood up to dad because I would never let dad take him down a peg. Never. So Melissa, and Adam, only children... basically."

Castiel pulled Dean from the floor. "You're inebriated."

Dean's breath contained obvious fumes as he slurred directly into Castiel's face in an attempt to speak quietly. His voice cracked. "I would have protected them, Cas."

"I know, Dean."

"Sammy would have protected them, too. I could have taught him how to be a big brother. That's how it's supposed to work."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean looked as though there were more ramblings making their way to the forefront of his mind, but the suggestion of sleep had been strong enough that he headed for his bed.

Castiel was relieved when Dean left the room. It was a good thing the bunker didn't have many windows, as it was only the middle of the afternoon.

* * *

Sam hadn't been able to hear his phone, as the indoor playground had been quite loud. He had never seen one of these places before, and it was very new. No video games, both healthy and unhealthy items on the menu at the snack bar, and coin operated massage chairs.

The children had run around for two hours straight, only stopping to ask for soda and pizza. Sam had talked them down to sports drinks when he realized they were sweating from running and climbing so much.

There was also Wi-Fi, which made Sam further regret not having time to grab his laptop when leaving the bunker, not that he'd have much to research.

Hoping to put a few more miles behind him before having to stop for the night, Sam rounded up the children multiple times, and eventually got them into the car.

He checked his phone before getting in, finding six missed calls from Dean, two of which had voice mails. Not wanting to waste time, he called back instead of checking them.

"Dean? What's going on? Are you okay?" His words spilled out as soon as the call was answered.

"Dean is fine, Sam." Castiel's voice came through, "He's been drinking, and he's upset, but in a few hours, he'll be back to normal."

"What's he upset about?"

"He saw the symbols on Melissa's back, and guessed correctly about how they got there."

Sam nodded out of habit, "Well, let Melissa know we stopped so the kids could have some fun and stretch, we should be able to make it to Chase's house by tomorrow evening if the traffic is good. Oh, and Johnny scraped his knee but he's fine now, and Dylan wants to grow up to be a shark that eats dynamite."

"I will give her the message." Castiel assured him.

* * *

Dean had been on the way to his room, bottle still in hand, but stopped at Melissa's open door. She was sleeping on her side. She had changed her clothes, so the rip in her shirt and the oil stains on her jeans were gone.

She didn't look so shaken up now, just small. He thought back to her face, when she had flinched at the sound of his voice.

"Melissa?" he spoke without thinking. Should have just kept walking. What was he doing? Well, whiskey will cloud your judgement.

She raised her head to turn to look at him, confused, and a bit disoriented.

He stumbled a bit as he crossed the floor of the small room, and sat down next to the bed, leaning back against the nightstand. "Here, you want some?"

Melissa took the bottle from him, setting it on the nightstand behind his head. "No, but you've probably had enough."

She sat up, dropping her legs over the side of the bed. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry. I don't think sometimes, and I was freaking out, and I hope I didn't scare you. But I had no right, you were walking away from me, and whatever marks you have on your body are your business, not mine. I was an asshole... and I'm sorry." Dean wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. "You know what pisses me off? I didn't get to go to your wedding. I bet that was a fun party."

Melissa was still a little sleepy. "What?"

"Yeah," Dean continued, "I know you were divorced, but what was your wedding like?"

"You didn't miss much." Melissa rubbed her face. "My ex, well his mom was in some weird kind of health nut cult, so we had no barbecue, which I wanted, some light classical string music, but no dancing, and no alcohol at all, so basically it was unbearable. Even the cake sucked."

Dean reached clumsily for the bottle as she spoke. "Yeah, but I bet you looked pretty." He paused to take a swig. "You find somebody else, somebody better for you, and gives a damn what you want, really. And I will be there, barbecue, booze, all kinds of fun, but you have to save me a dance."

He handed her the bottle again. She kept it in her hands this time. "Uh, okay, sure. On the off chance that I ever remarry, not likely... I'll save you a dance."

"That's all I'm asking." Dean slurred.

Castiel appeared in the doorway, holding Dean's phone. "Johnny had a small skin injury on his knee, but he is well, and Dylan wishes to become a carnivorous sea creature and consume explosives. Sam said they are having a good time."

"Did Crowley show up again?" Dean asked.

"He didn't mention Crowley."

"Who's Crowley?" Melissa asked, as Dean took the bottle from her hands.

"The king of Hell. I know, your church isn't big on that one, but I've been there. Literally. It's like... another dimension." Dean said.

"Wouldn't the king of Hell be Satan?"

"Not anymore, but he's there too. Except he still goes by Lucifer. Protip: Don't talk about Lucifer around Sam. Lucifer is an even bigger dick than our dad." Dean took another swig. "Hey, I got an idea..."

Dean attempted to jump to his feet, stumbling heavily into Castiel, taking his phone, and shoving the bottle into Castiel's hands as he went. "You crazy kids need to cut loose, I'll see you later..."

Castiel watched Dean busy himself out of the room, bare feet slapping the floor as he went.

"Is he an alcoholic?" Melissa asked pointedly.

"I'm sure he can stop any time he wants." Castiel deadpanned.

Melissa blinked. "Was that a joke?"

"Sorry. I understand humor better now, but I'm still not very good at it." Castiel sat down next to her.

Melissa put her head on Castiel's shoulder, taking the bottle from him. "How's my van?"


	14. Chapter 14

(A/N: Trigger warning: mention of a child's death in the past.

Also, more Crowley goodness. Thanks for reading! )

* * *

Sam got the boys into the hotel room without spreading the mess too badly. They had stopped for dinner not long ago, and there had been a mishap in the booth with a bottle of maple syrup.

"Okay guys, how does your mom do bath time for you?" Sam thought back to a funeral he'd attended in college. Jess had had a three year old niece who drowned in a bathtub after it had been left to drain. He was uncomfortable with the whole idea of bathing children, but there was no getting around it.

"She just tells me, 'Dylan, go take a shower, you smell like a walking armpit.' For Johnny, she puts him in the tub and leaves the door open, then she goes back and washes his hair, then he can play until the water gets cold." Dylan explained.

"Okay, that was very helpful. Thank you. You go ahead and take the first shower, and make sure to get all the syrup off." Sam said.

Johnny turned the TV on to cartoons as Dylan went to the bathroom.

Sam proceeded to prepare the room as he did every other time he stopped in a hotel. When he finished, he realized he was actually getting into the cartoon, and sat down to watch.

He sent Dean a text during a commercial break. 'Dude, check online for a cartoon called Ben 10, the kids are getting me hooked'

Dylan came out of the bathroom a bit later. Sam got up to draw a bath, and found water over most of the floor. Thankfully Dylan had ditched his mostly dry towel in the middle of the puddle.

* * *

Castiel accompanied Melissa to the garage, where the disarray hadn't changed. She finished adding the new oil to the van until the dipstick showed the correct amount, and closed it up.

He decided to give her a more in depth tour of the bunker so she wouldn't get lost.

As they turned a corner, he noticed a door open, and it dawned on him what Dean might have been up to.

"Wait here." Castiel stated in a loud whisper.

He approached the room without her. The shelves had indeed been pulled aside, and Dean had in fact done what Castiel feared.

"Castiel, I was wondering where you were. Couldn't be far, I know. Your little boyfriend here has been drunk-summoning me." Crowley said from the chair in the middle of the room.

"I told you, you help us, we let you go. You don't want to lose on this one either." Dean was still slurring, but not stumbling as much.

"You could have just called." Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well maybe I like to make you squirm." Dean looked at Castiel. "I know, but hear me out... I... I don't remember the rest..."

Crowley was too silent all of a sudden, and not paying attention to either of them. His eyes were fixed on the space between them in a startled look. Castiel and Dean both turned to see just a bit of Melissa, looking out from around the shelf nearest the door.

Dean went straight for her, "You shouldn't be here, it's not safe."

"Holy mother, what are you?" Crowley spoke, drawing his words out slowly, but loud enough to fill the room. There was a cold tone to his voice that chilled Dean's blood, stopping him in his tracks.

"You are a darling thing, aren't you? The children's mother, and a decoy, certainly, but what else?"

Castiel shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the idea of Crowley knowing anything about Melissa or the children.

Dean took Melissa by the shoulders, carefully despite the alcohol, leading her out into the hall. "Is that him?" She whispered.

"Yeah, and he already knows too much about you. I need you to stay away from him, please." Dean wobbled a moment, and turned her to look at him. "I'm doing everything I can to keep you safe and get information to keep your kids safe, but this guy would kill you without a thought, or worse, and I need to know you hear me on this."

"Yeah, okay. Do whatever you're going to do, I'm going to go make some dinner... Does that guy eat?" Melissa asked.

Dean shook his head, "Nah, he's a demon. Just us and maybe Cas."

She nodded, and walked off.

Dean went back inside.

Crowley was oddly silent. Dean looked at Castiel, who was visibly infuriated. "Cas? What happened?"

"I ask one innocent question about a sweet young lady-"

"Hardly innocent." Castiel growled.

"And he makes me out to be some perverted predator. Really. I'm trying to make conversation."

"What did you want to know?" Dean asked cooly.

Crowley opened his mouth to answer, but then shrugged, smirking at Castiel. "Well, let's just say, by his reaction, I get the feeling he might be able to answer what had been a hypothetical question."

Dean was still a bit drunk, but didn't trust Castiel to stay calm. "We'll see you in a while, Crowley. Maybe by then you'll be on better behavior."

Dean led Castiel out of the room, closing the door, and heading down the hallway. "Cas, man, you know you can't react to anything around Crowley. Any reaction gives him power over you. Not smart. Was she upset with me, is that why you looked like you were about to rip him one?"

"Melissa isn't upset at all. The reaction was mine alone."

Dean decided that didn't sound good.

* * *

Sam managed to shampoo the child's hair without getting any in Johnny's eyes. Some had gotten in his own eyes, however, not that he was sure how that had happened.

He sat down on the couch and looked at the two kids sitting on one of the beds, staring at the TV. Dylan was poking the top of Johnny's head, and Johnny was slapping him on the knee each time he did. Neither seemed to notice they were doing this.

"You guys have to go to sleep soon." Sam told them.

Dylan looked up. "Only if you tell us a story."

"Okay, get in your beds." Sam got up and turned off the TV. Dylan started to get under the covers, and Johnny got in with him.

"Don't you want your own bed?" Sam asked.

"No, you can use that one." Johnny said, not wanting to leave his brother.

"Okay. Thanks." Sam sat down on the empty bed, facing the boys. He pulled out his phone, opening up an ebook app, and began to read them a book about an eleven year old wizard.

Once the children had fallen asleep, Sam stretched out on the empty bed and considered his evening. Maybe it wasn't as hard as it had seemed.

* * *

Castiel followed Dean to the garage, and had helped him clean up the glass, and the tools left on the floor. It had taken some time to get all of the glass cleaned up, and after cleaning up themselves, they headed for the kitchen.

Melissa was sitting at the table, looking at her phone, drinking a beer. In the middle of the table was an oversized pie of some kind.

"What is that?" Dean asked, curiosity mostly coming from his stomach.

"Quiche loraine."

"Looks like some kind of bacon and egg pie."

"Yeah, that's what it is."

"Well, you won't hear any complaints from me." Dean got some plates and forks, a beer, and sat down at the table. "This smells amazing. I'll clean up the kitchen after dinner."

Dean dished up a slice for Melissa first, then shoved one in front of Castiel. Castiel looked up to say something, but Dean just jerked his head slightly towards Melissa, who wasn't paying attention.

Castiel got the idea that Dean wanted him to eat even if he didn't need to right now. "Thank you for making the egg pie, Melissa."

"Yeah, no problem..." Melissa continued to stare at her phone for a moment before setting it down, and actually noticing the slice of quiche in front of her. "My brother's getting things ready for the boys. I told him there were several death threats, and to trust anything Sam says, no matter how crazy, and the guardianship papers have already arrived."

Dean was too absorbed in the quiche to pay attention properly, but he tried. "Okay, uh, mm. That's good. I mean, the papers are there."

"Are you sure that demon doesn't need food or water, or anything?" Melissa asked, taking a bite.

"Hmmnmm. He's fine. He's a jerk, too."

"Dean is correct, Crowley will require nothing, and he's very dangerous. The fact that he showed an interest in you is not a good thing." Castiel explained.

Dean shoved another large bite into his mouth, pointing at Castiel, and nodding.

* * *

Castiel walked Melissa to her room as Dean proceeded to clean the kitchen.

"I don't feel right about that guy being chained up in that room."

"You shouldn't, you aren't meant to see any form of suffering and allow it to continue, but he is dangerous, and he may have information we can use." Castiel said.

"Will you take him a glass of water?"

"He won't drink it."

"Please?"

Castiel relented. "I'll do it, but only because I'm certain you would do it yourself if I don't."

"Thank you."

Castiel gave a small smile, then headed back to the kitchen.

Dean jumped a bit when Castiel appeared within his field of vision. "What's going on?"

"I have to take a glass of water to Crowley."

Dean gave him an odd, questioning look.

"I promised I would." Castiel sighed, reaching for a glass. "It's in her nature. It's the way she is."

Dean thought for a moment as Castiel filled the glass. "If she knew Crowley the way we know him, would she still ask you to do this?"

"Yes, she would." Castiel replied without hesitation.

"I'll go with you. Don't let him push your buttons this time." Dean said, hanging up a dish towel he had been holding.

Dean followed Castiel to the dungeon, and opened the door for him. Crowley was sitting right where they had left him, whistling Aime by Pure Prairie League.

"Back to visit already? My, this is much nicer than being left alone in here for days at a time." Crowley said. Dean figured he must be up to something. Unless he was up to nothing, and just trying to make him think he was up to something. He couldn't be sure.

Castiel stepped forward and passed Crowley the water glass.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

Castiel turned around again. "She wanted to make sure we weren't being cruel to you. She asked me to give you some water. It's not holy water."

Crowley took a curious sip. "Nothing to write home about."

"Okay..." Dean stepped forward and took the glass, moving to place it on a shelf. "We all know how this works... You need to tell us everything you know about the demons, and/or angels who are after the children."

"I want to talk to the girl." Crowley stated, ignoring everything Dean had just said. "That's no normal human, and I want to know what's different."

Dean shook his head. "Not going to happen."

Crowley looked at Castiel. "I'm sure you have some idea what she is. There's a purity to her soul you can nearly taste... Or maybe you have."

"That's my sister, Crowley." Dean spoke up. The comment had been average, even tame for the likes of Crowley, but normally he'd ignore Castiel as part of the scenery. It made Dean wonder what had been said earlier.

"That's fairly obvious. Has it penetrated Moose's thick skull yet?"

This was going nowhere. Dean turned to leave. "Goodnight, Crowley."

"Very well, I'll cooperate on a limited basis. You bring her back in here, and I'll answer three questions to the best of my ability. But then I'm free to go."

"Fine. In the morning."


	15. Chapter 15

(A/N: mild panic attack in this one. Don't worry, though, Cas shuts it down with cuteness.)

* * *

The first thing Melissa was aware of as she woke was a hand in her dark brown locks. It wasn't the first time she had woken up this way, far from it, but it was the first time she had woken up in the bunker, and the air was chilly.

She rolled slightly to look at the angel sitting with his back against the headboard. The windowless room was dark, but enough light came through under the door that she could make out his shape.

"What time is it?"

"5:27 am."

She turned the rest of the way to face him as he adjusted his hand on the pillow, so as her head turned, her cheek rolled into his palm. He ran his thumb over her eyebrow. "Your dreams confused me."

"I don't remember what I was dreaming."

"You were standing on a mountain overlooking a wide valley while singing an old hymn."

"That doesn't sound so weird."

"You were wearing a giraffe costume."

"Okay, I'm awake. And coffee is not optional. Jeez, does this place have heat? I'm freezing."

She sat up, trying to keep the blankets around her as best she could. Castiel touched her face again and suddenly she was warm. "Thanks."

"Dean made coffee, it's in the kitchen whenever you're ready."

Melissa pushed the blankets off and got out of the bed, turning on a lamp.

"Melissa, before you change your clothes, there's been a development."

Melissa turned around, rubbing one eye and raising an eyebrow. In the dim lamp light, she could see Castiel had a book sitting open on his lap.

"Crowley will only answer three questions, and only if you're in the room."

"But I only have to be there, right? And you and Dean can keep me safe."

Castiel took a marker out of one of his many pockets, holding it up in clear view. "I don't want to alarm you, but there are some protective sigils I'd prefer you have before this happens."

Melissa shook her head, "Castiel, please... I can't."

Castiel put the book down and stood slowly. She was trembling. "I am incapable of harming you, Melissa. And Crowley is dangerous, that is the only reason I would ask you to do this. It's just ink, it will wash away, nothing permanent, no different than applying your makeup. You can do this yourself."

Castiel put an arm around her, and offered her the marker. She attempted to take it, but she was shaking so hard it immediately slipped from her hand, clattering on the floor. "It's alright. Sit down," he said, guiding her to the edge of the bed.

He picked up the marker, and rested his wrist on her knee, drawing a small symbol just below the hem of her pajama shorts. He looked up to her face. Her eyes were shut tight, and she was breathing into her hands, trying to keep from hyperventilating. "Is this one alright?"

Melissa opened her eyes as Castiel retrieved the book, and moved to kneel in front of her. Staring up at her from her thigh was a smiley face.

* * *

Dean looked up as Melissa followed Castiel into the kitchen. "'Morning. Where you been, Cas? I didn't think you still needed to sleep since you got recharged."

"I was in Melissa's room." Castiel said, sitting down at the table.

Melissa was busy getting coffee, and pretended not to hear any of it.

"Huh."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you finally got the message about personal space with me, and moved on to crowding her, or if she's just more into cuddling with you than I am." Dean said.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. He had certainly never attempted to cuddle Dean. "Before she dressed this morning, I wanted to-"

"Woah! Nope! Not going there." Dean said, loudly. He closed the laptop in front of him, tucking it under one arm and picked up his coffee with his other hand as he got up, turning to leave. "Look, I get that you guys have known each other for years, but even though I've only known she was my sister for a few days now, we are not discussing anything that happens, or might happen, in her bedroom."

"Sigils, jackass." Melissa said, turning around. "He was trying to protect me from Crowley."

Dean shrugged. "It doesn't take all night to draw a few sigils on someone. Now of course, that's your business, but I don't want to hear any more."

Melissa sat down, giving up on making sense of Dean's rambling, "So what's the plan?"

"Simple. We go in, you stay safely out of reach, try to stay quiet, because anything he can get out of you, he'll use against you at some point, I'll ask him the three questions, and then after you're clear, we let him out."

"What are the three questions you're going to ask?"

"The first one will be a general idea of how to find the folks who are after your kids. The second two will depend on how he answers the first one."

"That's it? So we could just go knock this out, and get him out of here?"

Dean nodded and drained his coffee.

* * *

Crowley could hear three sets of footsteps coming from the hall. He straightened up in anticipation of the company he'd requested.

Dean walked in first, followed closely by Castiel. He turned to Melissa, pointing to the lines on the floor. "Stay outside of the circle."

"Come, come, now, Dean, can't I get a good look at this new plaything?"

Castiel bristled at Crowley's words. The idea of the king of Hell taking control of a Lamed Vavnik was repulsive to him.

"She's fine where she is." Dean said. "Now you ready to talk?"

Crowley nodded, watching Melissa intently.

"First question," Dean continued, "How do we find these dissenters that are after her kids?"

"An abandoned shoe factory in St. Louis. I'll write down the address for you."

Dean took a pen and paper from one of the shelves, and passed it to Crowley, who spoke as he wrote. "You know, it's terribly impolite to keep a lady standing when there's space for her on my lap."

Dean took the paper and pen. "Next question, the spell that's drawing these dissenters to her, in place of her kids, how long is it going to last?"

"Indefinitely. Anyone looking for them, will instead be drawn to her. At least until she dies."

Dean wanted to clarify part of what Crowley had said, but didn't want to waste the third question.

"Okay. Last one... We know they want to restart the apocalypse. How are they planning to open the cage?"

Crowley looked Dean in the eyes this time. "Ten blossoming minds not yet fully open, brains of people still receiving their education. Two livers of sacred rams, and one heart of a virgin."

Crowley turned back to Melissa. "But that certainly won't be yours, will it?"

"You've met her kids, Crowley, cut the crap..." Dean looked at the paper. "I'm going to go call Sam, cut him loose, Cas."

Dean walked out. Melissa turned to follow him.

"You showed me real kindness last night," Crowley's voice stopped her. "Sending me that glass of water... Anything else you might want to show me? Go on, sweetheart. Let me corrupt you, just a little."

Castiel didn't move except to look between the two of them.

Melissa's hands rose to the wide neckline of her knit shirt. Her fingers tucked into it, and she made a move as though she were going to pull it down. Suddenly her hands dropped from the shirt, leaving it in place, and hovered in front of her breasts, middle fingers extended.

As she turned to walk away, Castiel heard Crowley's breath slowly returning to normal. He wasn't sure what to make of that, either.

"I see it now..." Crowley said, his breath hitching in his throat just a little. Castiel was disturbed to hear a hint of a moan in Crowley's voice. "Naughty little saint, isn't she?"

* * *

Sam woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. "Dean? What's up?"

"The creeps looking for the kids are running out of a factory in St Louis. I got an address off of Crowley."

"What did you give him for it?" Sam asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Nothing important, but he met Melissa, and, well it was weird." Dean started mumbling.

"Weird, how?" Sam asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, he's a creep, you know how he is."

"So, what, he was hitting on her?"

"Doesn't matter. If the kids seem safe at Chase's, head to St Louis, I'll text you the address, but don't do anything until we have a plan."

"Right... Okay."

"How's it going with the kids?"

Sam looked over at the other bed. "They're, uh... They're great. I started reading them Harry Potter."

"See? I knew you could do this. Stay safe out there."

"Yeah, you too."

Sam ended the call and went to get ready for the day.

* * *

Castiel had unchained Crowley and broke a line on the floor, quickly repainting it once he had left.

He felt strange. Something was amiss, but he couldn't place it. He understood Crowley's approaches toward Melissa to be sexual in nature, and Dean had shut him down a little, but he didn't react as though he was a threat.

He considered Melissa's action before she left the room. She hadn't exposed herself, instead deciding to insult Crowley. It seemed like a game. Castiel wondered if what Melissa had done would be considered 'flirting.' The thought made him nauseous. Saints might flirt, but not with demons. Not with Crowley, surely.

He looked over the chair, making certain no symbols had been damaged, and it would be ready for any demon they may need to place in it in the future. Everything was in order.

He shut off the light, closed the door and started down the hallway, considering his own feelings. What would it matter to him if she had been flirting with Crowley? He had heard Dean speak of 'innocent flirting' before, but he wasn't sure if this fit that description, since Crowley was involved, and he didn't seem to be innocent of anything.

Castiel walked slowly, not wanting to find his friends just yet. Dean's reaction in the kitchen... Yes, Dean seemed to think there was something happening, and that was what he had said he didn't want to hear about. But at the same time, he also seemed to accept whatever it was that wasn't actually happening.

* * *

Castiel found Dean and Melissa in the library, several books with references to the apocalypse on the tables.

"Ten brains, two livers, one heart... Where do you even get a sacred ram these days?" Dean asked, grabbing another two books from a shelf before sitting down to flip pages.

"You won't find it in that one, Dean." Castiel said, standing a few feet away.

"You got anyone you could ask for more details?"

"Yes. A rabbi in rural Montana. Unfortunately he doesn't have a telephone."

"Can you zap yourself there and still have enough juice to get back?"

"Not yet. Melissa, if you're willing to help me, it wouldn't take much more grace than what I already have available."

She nodded, getting up from her chair, "Sure."

Dean looked around. "I guess I'll get online and see if anything weird in St Louis verifies what Crowley said."


	16. Chapter 16

(A/N: Okay, I thought the grace transfer from before was hot, but this one, well... Nothing too bad, I guess. I do think we have a pairing.

Thanks to Kakelyn for the review, you're welcome, and everybody, thanks for reading!)

* * *

It didn't take Sam as long to get the children to cooperate that morning, and he was able to get back on the road in half the time of the previous day. He had made good time on the road, and expected to reach Birmingham around the middle of the day.

He had grabbed the boys each a comic book at the last gas station, and they were actually talking quietly about super heroes. He listened in on their conversation, finding it nice to hear something from the point of view of innocent children for once. He wondered if his father had ever listened to him and Dean in the same way.

* * *

Once they were out of earshot of Dean, Castiel turned to Melissa as they walked. "I want to be sure you understand, I appreciate your generosity. I know supplying me with new grace is no small effort for you."

"What else can I do? You're helping me keep my children safe."

"You could refuse. I would still help you and your children as much as I could, of course. And your children weren't in danger the first time I asked for your help."

"The first time, you were basically dying, and I hadn't seen you in almost a year and a half, of course I wouldn't turn you away." Melissa turned to walk into the room. Castiel closed the door behind them, wondering if there was more meaning behind those words.

"I'm... uncomfortable. And I don't completely understand why." Castiel sat down on the bed.

"What do you mean?" Melissa moved to stand in front of him as she had done several times before.

"I believe it started last night. With Crowley..." he tilted his head. "The way he looked at you. It... upset me."

"Upset you?"

He looked up into her eyes. Castiel was tired of the knot in his stomach that had been twisting since Crowley had set eyes on her.

His mind finally found the right word for what he was feeling. _Possessiveness_. And it felt good to name it.

He reached for the sides of her neck as he always had before, but this time he tangled his fingers into her hair and brought her lips to his.

He had considered doing this several times before, but she had never moved first. With Meg, and with April, each of them had made their own desire evident, but Melissa never had. Quickly he wondered if he had made a mistake. Perhaps she didn't think of him that way, or maybe she didn't want to be kissed.

He stopped without moving too far back. "I should have asked-"

He found his mouth was suddenly busy again. Evidently he didn't need to ask, and she did want to be kissed.

This time it was Melissa who broke away. "I didn't think celestial beings had any interest in this sort of thing."

"Unfortunately, there is a task at hand. I'm not certain it can wait." Castiel said in a hushed tone.

"We can discuss it tonight." Melissa whispered. "Are you ready?"

Castiel nodded, and she stood up, finding her hands had slipped down to his chest. He caught a trace of reluctance in her eyes as she moved them back up to his shoulders.

She took longer to slip into her trance than she usually did. Castiel blamed himself for that, he had probably made it difficult for her to focus.

When he saw her throat chakra begin to open this time, he felt no reason to hold back. The grace began to pour slowly, and he went straight for it, nudging her chin upward with his cheek, and putting his lips to her throat.

With the first few threads of grace that he accepted, he could feel a burning warmth of trust. One of his hands slipped down to grasp her thigh next to his own. He could feel and sense her root chakra near his hand becoming more active.

He allowed his tongue to slip out experimentally making gentle contact with her skin, and suddenly her throat chakra was opened wider, grace was spilling forth much more quickly than it had before. He wasn't sure when his hand had begun to move, but it ran up her leg, over her hip and came to rest on her ribs, under her shirt.

Castiel came to the realization that he wasn't lacking in grace by much, and he wasn't sure how much more he'd be able to hold without damaging his vessel. He was suddenly concerned about how much Melissa would need to recover from this. He pulled his mouth back from her throat, and the chakra began to close. She was swaying, gripping his shoulders tightly.

He gathered her into his arms as she went limp, lifting her as though she weighed nothing and moved her onto the bed. He straightened her hair and clothing as best he could, and watched her for a moment. He didn't feel right leaving her unconscious, but staying until she woke seemed like a waste of time given the situation.

Castiel removed his trench coat and placed it over her like a blanket, gently pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Dean noticed the lights flicker. He looked around suspiciously. That didn't just happen by itself in the bunker.

When nothing strange seemed to be happening after a few moments, he went back to his laptop.

He looked up when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Castiel came into the library.

"Where's your coat?" Dean asked, surprised not to see it.

Castiel smiled involuntarily for a moment, considering the collar that was nestled against the throat his tongue had found just a little while ago, but before he could straighten his expression, Dean was pointing directly into his face. "No! Don't say anything. Forget I asked. I'm going to guess the lights flickering, that had to do with your grace thing?"

"Yes." Castiel said plainly.

"Okay. Good enough. So, Montana, huh?" Dean asked.

"Yes, it shouldn't take long. But Melissa is unconscious, so-"

"No. Just no. Stop talking. Go to Montana."

Castiel shook his head in confusion and turned away from where Dean sat, ignoring him. Dean didn't look up until he heard the rustle of feathers.

Dean took a long hit off his beer and checked his phone, before going back to looking at news articles for St. Louis.

* * *

Sam pulled up to a large gate, rolling down the window of the Impala.

He pressed the call button and was surprised when a video screen came on.

"Yes?"

"Uh, hi. Is this the Faulkner residence?"

"Who's this?"

"My name is Sam Winchester, Melissa sent me. I have Dylan and John Campbell with me."

"Oh good, yeah, just pull on up to the house."

The voice crackled out, and the gate started to swing open.

Sam pulled the car forward onto a driveway that twisted into the woods. He didn't see any buildings, and if it hadn't been for the gate, he would have sworn he was on yet another empty county road.

Through the trees, a large white house came into view. He wasn't sure what he had expected, having seen Melissa's home, and hearing about the worth of the Faulkner Corporation. This was certainly a large home, but not a mansion. It was modern without being pretentious, and stylish without being flashy.

A stocky woman in her mid 20s with short red hair came down the front steps as Sam pulled into the circular driveway. The children were bouncing and waving before he stopped the car.

Sam got out of the car, and approached the woman.

"Sam, it's nice to meet you, I'm Leann Faulkner."

He shook her hand. "If you don't mind, there are a few things I'd like to check before I let the children out of the car."

"Well, Melissa said you're the boss, so go right ahead."

"If you'll hold out your hand, this will only take a moment." Sam quickly poured a splash of holy water into her palm, and seeing no reaction, opened the door of the car.

Dylan and Johnny ran to hug their aunt. Sam knew the excitement, he had occasionally ran to Bobby or Pastor Jim in the same way. A man came outside with a phone in his ear, "Yeah, I'll back online in a few minutes, my nephews are here."

* * *

With another rustling, Dean looked up. It had been an hour.

"So what's your rabbi buddy say?"

"Rabbi Levin says that there are four more ingredients, but that information has been lost to time."

"Great. So we don't know what else they need, and we can't watch for it to go missing."

Castiel nodded, and headed back down the hallway.

Dean's phone began to ring. He saw Sam's number and answered. "Yeah?"

"The kids are settling in, I think I'll be out of here tonight. What have we got?"

"We've got squat, aside from that address and some ingredients they'll need to open the cage. But they would need to have the kids first for that, right?"

"One would think," Sam replied.

"So we should be expecting them to show up here. I'm thinking St. Louis is a wash. Probably best if you head back for the bunker."

"Yeah, I'm not exactly set up for the road. I'll catch a couple hours at some point, probably see you tomorrow."

"Yeah okay."

Dean set the phone down. Almost immediately it began to ring again.

666... He knew this couldn't be good. "Crowley..."

* * *

Castiel walked in to Melissa's room and closed the door. She was still asleep. He sat on the bed next to her, once again touching her hair just to feel it in his hands.

"I didn't break the ostrich." Melissa mumbled. Castiel's eyebrows came together. The human mind never ceased to amaze and confuse him.

"The ostrich is fine, Melissa." He said, hoping to soothe her subconscious.

She woke suddenly. "What?"

"You were dreaming."

She rubbed her face. "Where's your coat?"

Castiel put his hand on her shoulder, picking at the fabric slightly.

"Oh."

"I'm not certain what caused it, but the amount of grace you created this time was far more than I thought would be possible." Castiel said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, I think... Did I stop letting grace out, or did you stop taking it? Because just before I passed out, there was this big sharp jolt."

Castiel looked confused. "I pulled away from you... Was it painful?"

"Yeah." Melissa said, nodding. "Like the energy needed to get out, but it was coming out on it's own. It felt like it was cutting it's way out of me."

* * *

Dean shook his head. "You're not welcome."

"Do you know what she did after you left, Dean? She's a tease, and she needs to be put in her place." Crowley's voice came through the phone. "All I intend to do is scare her a little, maybe ruffle a few feathers, regain my dignity, and you can have her back, safe and sound."

Dean thought it sounded like Crowley was pacing. "'Bye, now."

"Don't hang up on me, Dean, we both kno-"

Dean hung up.

He took his beer with him as he navigated the halls, and finally knocked on Melissa's door.

Dean was sure he heard a muffled noise, and took a large step back before the door could swing wide open. Castiel was on the other side of it. "Oh good, you're both here, what a surprise."

Castiel stared blankly. Dean was just glad everyone appeared to have clothes on, although as Melissa had Castiel's coat over most of her body, he wasn't looking too closely. He continued to speak before either of them could start making any useless denials.

"Crowley called. He said he wants to ruffle some feathers."

"I don't want Crowley to ruffle my feathers." Castiel replied flatly.

"Not yours, Cas, Melissa's."

"Melissa doesn't have feathers."

"I don't want to know how you know that. The point is, Crowley thinks he has some right to swing by and be an asshole, and Sam dropped off the kids, he's going to give the place a once over, and head back. No point in going to St Louis until we have a solid plan."


	17. Chapter 17

(A/N: Okay, first, I wrote the bit, then pulled up the song, then when I looked at the comment section for the song, found out J.A. had sang it at a convention, so of course I went to that video after, and all I'm saying is that I have no complaints. Love that song.

Also, the L.V. gag in here is about the Lamed Vavnik thing, good to look up if you're interested in world religions.)

* * *

Castiel had closed the door again as Dean had wandered off for a fresh beer. "I don't understand what Crowley intends to do, but this can't be good."

"I guess I messed up, didn't I?" Melissa said, pushing the trench coat off of her and handing it back to Castiel as he came to sit on the bed once again.

"Accidentally making things worse does seem to be a hereditary trait in your bloodline. But you've done nothing wrong." Castiel said. "Anything Crowley does will be Crowley's fault alone."

Melissa said nothing for some time, just sat staring at her knees. Castiel considered putting the trench coat on, but instead lay it on the end of the bed. He turned around again when he felt her bump her bent knee against his back. "What is it?"

"Do you really have feathers?"

* * *

Dean decided he was not drunk enough for the day he was having, and went to find a bottle in one of the pantries.

Sam had taken forever dropping off Melissa's kids, Baby was out on the road without him, Crowley was stalking his sister, and Cas had a lead that turned into a dead end, which was the only thing Dean could think about Cas having right now.

Dean took a bottle from a shelf in the dark room he found himself in. He could just make out the label. Oh, yes, the Men of Letters had stocked away some excellent home brewed hooch.

He made his way back to the library, grabbing his phone from the table. He had a text from Crowley. No attempt to convince him, no threat, simply the words, 'This is happening.'

Dean looked at the bottle. So much for that idea, now he had to stay sharp. He dropped into his chair.

Melissa came into the library, sitting down at the table where she had been before. "Where are we at on this?"

"We're stalled." Dean said, frowning at the screen of his laptop. "But your kids are safe, you're safe, and now we just have to figure how to clean up the original mess."

"What about the second mess?"

"What?"

"Crowley. What's he going to do?"

Dean shook his head. "No idea. What did you do, anyway?"

"I flipped him off." she said quietly.

"You flipped him off?... You flipped off the king of Hell?" Dean stared at her face for a moment, then chuckled. "Well, there's your paternity test."

"You said not to say anything, so I didn't. Not a word."

"Yeah, but body language counts with Crowley."

Melissa looked away, "Then I guess there was more to it."

"Okay, I'm scared to ask, but what else was there? You came out of there just a few seconds after me."

Melissa leaned on the table putting her face in her hands. "I made like I was going to flash him, and _then_ I flipped him off... Both hands, if it matters."

"Seriously?" Dean sat quietly for a moment. "You're not really getting this whole 'king of Hell,' 'he's a fucking demon,' thing, are you?"

Melissa shrugged and sat back in the chair. "So now what?"

"Where's Cas?"

"Vatican archives. He's got a nearly full tank now, I guess I'm getting better at it."

Dean nodded, glad to hear Castiel was getting back to himself. "Can I ask you something personal? There's been something I've been wondering about for a while."

"You can ask, but I won't guarantee an answer."

"Your kid, Johnny... after what our dad did to you, why the hell would you name your baby after him?"

Melissa took a deep breath. "You know, even my ex husband didn't know my birth father put those marks on me, just Castiel. I never told my dad, either, I just kept them covered. When I was pregnant, that's when shit started to go sideways with my ex, and I did everything I could to keep Dylan safe. Around the same time, weird things started happening in the house we lived in, and I got scared."

She shook her head before she continued. "He had told me, John, I mean, after he let me go, to go home, fix my life, and never call him for anything, but he had known things, things I hadn't told him, like he'd know what soccer team I was on, show up out of nowhere at a dance recital, so I knew he was keeping tabs on me when he was still in contact..."

Melissa shifted in her chair. "I thought that, if whatever weird stuff was happening got bad," she started to choke up, "If I died, that he would at least come to protect my kids. So I named Johnny after him, hoping if I wasn't around it might tug a heartstring, get him to help them, and I guess it was out of manipulation... but I don't feel guilty about it, either."

Dean said nothing, just nodded.

"You think I'm a bitch?" Melissa asked, looking up.

"No." Dean said, turning his attention back to his laptop for a moment. "I think you're strong. And while that can get you into some tough places, I don't know many people who can go through all of that and still feel sorry for a chained up demon."

Dean stood up, pressing one more button on the laptop, and walked over to where Melissa was sitting. "C'mon, at this rate your Winchester D.N.A. is going to get you killed before you have a chance at another wedding, so we'll just have to get this out of the way now."

Sister Christian by Night Ranger was coming out of the speakers. Dean pretended to drag her out of the chair, and pulled her into a slow dance.

"You think he's going to kill me?"

Dean shrugged. "He might, but he said he'd give you back safe and sound."

"Safe and sound, but maybe dead?"

"Yeah, well, death is a funny thing in this family. Now quit talking over the music."

Dean spun Melissa around, trying hard to avoid the scars on her back, not knowing what her reaction would be.

As the song drew to an end, Dean pulled her into a hug. "I think I'm falling in brotherly love with you."

"Same here," Melissa said, slightly muffled. "But as that's going to take a sex change, you'll have to start calling me 'Ralph.'"

Dean was still laughing when Castiel appeared with a quick rush of wind.

"Hey, Cas. You cutting in?" Dean asked.

"Why is Crowley outside?" Castiel asked, pointing to the door.

"What, already?" Dean said, letting go of Melissa and heading up the stairs. "Stay here, I'll see what I can do to get rid of him."

* * *

Dean slipped out of the door of the bunker, finding Crowley about 10 feet away.

"We just let you go, and here you are again. I'm starting think you like being chained up in my dungeon." Dean said, attempting to smirk.

"Nice try. Where's the girl?" Crowley said, glancing at the door.

"Cas took her to the mall for a new dress."

"And I'm sure he'll look smashing, but if they've left," Crowley said, stepping far too close, and pacing out his words, "Why is her scent on your shirt so strong?"

Crowley tapped the back of his hand against Dean's chest, and lifted it close to his face as he stepped away again. "There it is. Fresh cut apples. Couldn't place it, as far away as she was standing in the dungeon."

"You figured it out, didn't you?" Dean asked, not sure, but not wanting to give it away. He put his hands in his pockets.

"She's one of the thirty-six, no question about it, she's got the big L.V. card, but is she corruptible? That's what's plaguing me."

"So you came to give her a Darth Vader speech?"

Crowley shook his head. "Don't be stupid. If she turned to the dark side, she would hold no longer hold my attention."

"I still don't get why you're here. A saint flipped you the bird, who cares? Seems like you have a crush, so I'd tell you to grow a pair and ask her out, but it's you, so, no. It can't be that hard to find yourself another saint, unless you want to admit it's not what she is, but who she is..."

Crowley snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Dean turned around and went back inside.


	18. Chapter 18

(A/N: Just a quick reminder about the rating here, and what consenting adults do, consentingly. ;) )

* * *

Castiel watched the door close behind Dean, feeling Melissa's impending panic. He wouldn't be able to help Dean if he was hyperventilating in a corner, but he couldn't render her unconscious and leave her defenseless, either.

Castiel reached for Melissa, tapping two fingers against her temple, short circuiting her panic attack.

"What was that for?"

"It's nothing." Castiel said, shaking his head.

"Did you find anything in Rome?"

Castiel looked up at the door again. "Nothing relevant to the situation at hand, but with your help today, I am able to search much faster. It won't be long."

"Great," Melissa dropped into a chair. "All I want to do is to get back to my kids..."

Castiel considered her for a moment as she slumped in the chair, and was about to ask her if it were true, that that was the only thing she wanted at this time, but the door opened again, and Dean came through it.

"Well, Crowley left, let's hope he loses interest." Dean said, coming down the stairs. "Anything?"

Castiel shook his head.

* * *

After dinner, Dean decided to get a head start on packing for St. Louis.

Not knowing what would be needed, he decided to pack his suit just in case.

A small bundle fell to his feet. It looked like a twisted up napkin around a pen. He reached for it, remembering meeting Charlotte and Lita in the coffee shop in Robertsville. He had never checked to see what Lita had written after he had shoved the note into his pocket.

He unwrapped it carefully.

 _'It's her - needs 10. She's taking their brains._ '

"Son of a bitch... they were all students..."

* * *

Castiel had wandered around the bunker for a while, not feeling capable of sitting still. Dean was preparing to leave once Sam had arrived, and Melissa had gone through emails from both the corporation and her church, doing what she could remotely, planning to make some calls the following day.

He had actually been able to taste the dinner, although he had a feeling that was more from experiencing things through Melissa's connection with the new grace.

He opened her door quietly, and seeing her sitting at a small table with a white candle burning, moved to sit on the bed. He could feel her awareness of him, but he continued to avoid being a distraction.

Finally, the candle went out, and the lamp was the only light in the dim room.

"I'm not sure I agree with you praying so loudly when there could be angels working with the demons searching for your children." Castiel said quietly.

"If they show up, they'll be far away from my kids, so, win-win. Besides, I wasn't praying to angels."

Castiel stood up, finding his way to her slowly. "I know you weren't. I could hear every word of it."

"Did you hear me every time before I started recharging your batteries?"

He stood behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Only when you called for me, except for the first time, when you asked for the help of 'any benevolent spirit.' That was loud enough to shake up most of the garrison."

"Really?" she asked, turning in her chair. "How many heard me?"

Castiel shrugged. "How many in a mile radius hear a fired cannon? The number is not important. It frightened many."

Melissa stood up, turning to face him, fidgeting with his coat collar, "What about you? You weren't scared of me, you came to my rescue."

Castiel's hands found her hair once again, as they always seemed to, "I was very afraid, I simply chose to ignore it."

Castiel felt the new grace, still not blended with his own, churning slightly. It wasn't uncomfortable to feel it moving within him, but it was disorienting. Her emotions were affecting him, certainly.

"Did you want to finish that conversation from earlier?" Melissa asked, her voice a whisper as one of his thumbs found the dip in her neck just behind her earlobe.

"I don't particularly feel like talking right now." Castiel said, leaning in to kiss her. She tilted her head back as his fingers swept her hair away from her face. He could feel her hands moving up, passing his sternum, fingers occasionally slipping into the shirt between the buttons.

A sparking and twinging feeling came to him as his teeth caught the line of her lower lip, running his tongue across it. He wanted to repeat it immediately, but instead he pulled her closer, his hands slipping down her back. On a whim, he tugged at her waistband, finding what felt like another electric pulse.

* * *

"Sam? Listen," Dean spoke into his phone, "Those students who were going missing in Robertsville, it was their brains, this group of S.O.B.s was already collecting the first ingredient on the list to bust open the cage, they might have had a location on the kids. Where are you?"

"Almost to Joplin," he yawned. "I was going to stop for the night, but I guess it's coffee instead."

"Pull over if you have to, but if you get any ideas on where they would get two livers from sacred rams, or a virgin's heart, call me right away."

"Yeah, I will. Hey, how do you get ice cream out of leather upholstery when it's already hardened?"

Dean was quiet for a moment before he heard Sam chuckling. "Not funny, man. You bring her back cherry, you hear me?"

* * *

Melissa wasn't sure how they had gotten to the bed, but she thought she had heard Castiel's wings. His coat and jacket had disappeared, and she was quickly working on his tie, when she felt him buck his hips against her. His hands slipped under her pajama shirt, and finding her skin otherwise unimpeded, quickly took her breasts into his hands as his lips moved against the side of her neck.

"Slow down!" she murmured, gasping as he squeezed gently.

"I'm sorry," he said, withdrawing his hands from her shirt, and looking away to try to calm himself. "Due to the grace you gave me earlier, I'm experiencing your feelings as well as my own."

"Hey..." she took his chin to turn his face back to her, "I said slow down, not stop."

With that, his tie came free, and she pulled it through his collar, reaching next for his buttons. Castiel considered her pajamas, and knowing they'd come off far easier, began to assist her with his own clothing, unfastening his belt, and pulling his shirt tails free.

She had only gotten half way down his shirt when she slipped a hand inside to stroke over his nipple, earning a choked gasp in his kiss. Her other hand continued to work at the buttons.

Castiel nudged his shoes off, dropping them to the floor, as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders. In the time it took him to free his wrists from his long sleeves, her pajama shirt was on the floor. He went straight back to her neck, both of them relishing the feel of bare skin against bare skin. His hands moved up and down her sides, and the grace within him burned hot with her enjoyment.

Melissa tangled her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him against her for another kiss.

Castiel ran his hand lower, dragging it down her thigh, catching behind her knee and pulling it up before running it back down to her hip. His fingers went into her waistband and he felt her nod. He pulled away to kneel on the bed as he slipped her pajama pants off, taking a moment to look at her naked form laying before him.

"Castiel... you wait too long, I'm going to get cold." Melissa said with a smirk.

Castiel stood up, removing what was left of his clothes. He turned back to the bed to find her watching him, but continued to move back to her. As he climbed onto the bed, something in the two graces began to stir, still like oil and water, but it seemed they were desperate to join.

Melissa moved her legs to either side of him as he moved back up her body. Once again his mouth was on hers, kissing her deeply, settling his weight on his elbows, his body searching for friction of it's own volition. She gasped and shuddered as his hard erection found her bundle of nerves. As she came back to her senses, she realized he had moaned.

"You're feeling more than emotions, aren't you?" Melissa asked, her eyes finding his.

"I'm not sure, but I have a theory, if you'll permit me to test it." Castiel spoke with a gentle whisper.

"Sure, what do nee-AH!" Castiel's hand was between her legs in a flash, and he was not stopping, not that she actually wanted him to. His fingers found their way inside of her, his wide palm grinding against her with each slow rocking movement.

Castiel was shaking, and moaning with her, his eyes closed, the occasional gasp escaping his lips. It took all her concentration to notice a faint light coming from his hand, and as much as her body fought her, needing him to continue, she grabbed his muscular forearm, pulling his hand away. He looked up, desperation in his eyes.

"Okay," she said, panting. "You proved your theory, right?"

"Yes, I'm experiencing your-"

"Fuck me."

Castiel was pressing into her maybe half a second later, both of them a quivering mess. But Castiel was feeling everything, not only her soft, wet body enclosing him, but also her sensation of his hard length filling her. As much as he tried to focus, hear her, and pay attention to what she needed from him, he was overwhelmed by the sensations. He slipped one arm under the small of her back as he began to thrust into her, and the slight change of angle changed something.

"Right there! Oh, that's perfect..." Melissa whimpered. Her voice barely registered in Castiel's ears, as it occurred to him that if she wasn't enjoying herself, he would certainly notice. It was then that he surrendered what tiny bit of control of himself he still had, allowing his vessel's instincts to take over.

Melissa's hands ran through the thin layer of sweat beginning to build on Castiel's back, raising her head to kiss his neck above her, no longer caring how loud her moans had gotten, just needing more contact with her angel. As she got closer, she wrapped one leg, then the other, around his waist, his thrusting so hard now, she wondered briefly if he even noticed.

Castiel's moans and gasps were growing in intensity, as were her own, when suddenly he ripped her hands from his back, pinning them above her head, as her entire body tensed, reaching her breaking point.

Above her in the darkness, as waves of concentrated pleasure washed through her entire body, not entirely visible, two black wings unfurled, slowly opening as Castiel's body mirrored her own release, his not-quite scream echoing in her ear, his heat exploding deep within her, his body continuing to move as long as she could hold on to the feelings moving through her, rocking against her at a more gentle pace now.

As Castiel slowed to a stop, seemingly broken by the effort, he lowered his head to her shoulder, moans still coming through his harsh breathing.

He had let go of her hands, she ran them up his sides slowly, making him shiver. Once his breathing had slowed, he tried gather his strength to roll off of Melissa, but she seemed to want to keep him close, and he had no argument with that.

Entirely spent, he was vaguely aware of Melissa reaching to turn off the lamp. Not long after, just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard her whisper something about feathers.


	19. Chapter 19

(A/N: Hope everyone had a good time with the last chapter, that was not easy to write, it was very hard to keep Cas in character, since he's so rarely portrayed as sexual, well, at least intentionally. If you're still reading, you know exactly what I mean, lol.)

* * *

Dean sat at a table in the library, scouring the internet for anything he could find on sacred rams. The bottle he'd found earlier in the day had a sizeable dent in it's contents, and he had a Led Zeppelin cd running.

He knew he was losing focus... Aries, Mithras, the temple at Karnak, and something else in Japanese culture...

Dean looked toward the hallway, he could have sworn he had heard something. The thought crossed his mind that Crowley might be able to get in unnoticed. Not sure what he'd heard, he paused the cd, and started to stand up as quietly as possible.

The moment the sound repeated itself, he wished he hadn't been paying attention at all, turning the music back on as loud as it would go, and downing more of his drink.

"Nope." Dean said, refilling his glass. "They're watching a movie... Watching a movie, no big deal."

He downed it faster than he thought, and looked into the empty glass as Castiel's strained and wordless voice echoed faintly. "Therapy... I'm going to need lots of therapy."

* * *

Sam woke up with a start, slamming his foot down on the brake before he realized the engine wasn't running.

He ran his hands over his face, and got out of the car, stretching. He checked his watch. A little after 4am. He looked up and down the deserted highway before wandering over to the fence line for a few moments. Zipping up and heading back to the car, a familiar figure was leaning on it waiting for him.

"Crowley. What's up?" Sam feigned a friendly tone, sarcasm seeping through.

"I'm looking for some information, and I think I've found it. Seems your lot picked up a new pet. Also seems she has something to lose. Two somethings." Crowley pointed to the back window. "Where could they have gotten to, do you suppose?"

Sam shook his head, shrugging. "No idea what you mean."

"Please." Crowley said, beginning to circle the car. "You Winchesters... always looking after each other, to the last. The very last. Getting each other killed by your good intentions... You can't tell me it won't happen with the children. I give it a week before one of you is calling me, willing to make a deal over the precious children because somehow, one of you couldn't let them go. Couldn't just stay away, always running in to save someone, and then causing their demise."

He was less than a foot away now, staring into Sam's eyes. "It's a matter of time, Moose. And when that time is up, I won't be accepting souls. There's an entire person I'll be taking home with me. Don't forget it."

Sam shook with anger as he got into the car after Crowley vanished.

* * *

Melissa woke up slowly. Her body was draped over Castiel's, her head on his shoulder, and at some point the blankets had been pulled over her. His head turned slightly, stubble brushed against her forehead.

"You were talking in your sleep."

"Did I say anything interesting?" Melissa slurred sleepily against his chest.

"You were attempting a spell to manifest nachos." Castiel said quietly.

"I like nachos."

"I could go into town and get some for you." he offered.

"Not for breakfast." she said, pulling up onto her elbow.

"I don't understand," he answered her, glancing at her bare breasts for a moment before looking up into her eyes, "If burritos and tacos can be made as a morning meal, why are nachos not acceptable?"

Melissa smiled and leaned forward, kissing him. "I need a shower and coffee. Until those happen, quit asking me questions, okay?"

Castiel nodded intently, staying silent as though he might accidentally ask another question.

* * *

Sam came down the stairs into the bunker, dragging what little he had with him. Nothing seemed out of place, so he left his things on a table and made for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He found Melissa was already on the task.

"Hey, your kids said to give you this," he said, leaning in to give her a hug. "Are you doing okay?"

She nodded, "It's killing me to be away from them, but it's the only way to keep them safe, what else can I do, you know?"

Sam noddded. "Chase and Leann seem like great people, I can understand why you trust them. The kids will be okay."

* * *

"Dean?" Dean heard Castiel's voice coming from somewhere, but he was pretty certain he didn't want to hear it for a while.

"No."

Castiel looked puzzled for a moment, then continued. "Sam is here, and Melissa is making breakfast... Why are you under the table?"

Dean's head was pounding as he opened his eyes, finding himself beneath a table in the library. "Why am I under the table? Because my room is too close to yours, and I developed a sudden fear of hallways."

Sam leaned over, peering at his brother. "Hey. So, what happened, you drink yourself under the table, or what?"

Dean rolled out, getting up. "I don't remember. And what I remember, I wish I didn't."

Sam looked confused. "What does that mean?"

Dean looked at Castiel, shook his head, and started for the kitchen.

Sam decided to wait until Dean was functional to discuss Crowley's visit.

* * *

Dean ran off to his room after a pathetic attempt to eat breakfast, mostly to avoid happy morning people.

He considered shaving, but didn't feel like slicing his face up in the process, and opted to try for another couple of hours sleep.

He heard footsteps, cursed himself for forgetting to shut the door, and looked up. Sam sat down on the foot of the bed. "I haven't seen you this wrecked in a while, what happened? Car withdrawals?"

Dean mumbled into his pillow, Sam could only make out the last word.

"Bunnies? You got trashed and fell asleep under a table, -in the bunker,- because 'bunnies?'" Sam scoffed. "And you get on my ass about clowns."

Dean lifted his head, "They were going at it like bunnies."

"Who?"

"Cas and Melissa."

It took Sam a moment for that to sink in. "Really?"

"It was... loud."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "Okay, well... Good for them."

Dean sat up, attempting to out bitchface Sam's most bitchy bitchface ever. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam shrugged, "They make a cute couple, and with everything they've each been through, it's nice that they have each other."

"Dude, that's our sister."

"Yeah.. And Cas. Name one guy that would treat her better, take care of her like she deserves."

Dean looked at the floor. "Yeah, okay, fine. But we are soundproofing, no question about it."

"There you go, I knew you'd ship it."

"What?"

"Get some sleep, Dean. You're a mess." Sam said, walking towards the door.

He was suddenly face to face with Castiel.

"Is Dean sick?"

"Nope, just really hung over." Sam said. "He needs things to be quiet for a while. At least for a couple of days. Especially at night. Okay?"

Castiel looked like he was about to say something, but Sam cut him off. "Since you're both here, Crowley showed up really early this morning while I was on the road, what's his deal with Melissa?"

"He doesn't have a deal with Melissa, she's not able to bargain her soul." Castiel stated plainly.

"No, I mean, why is he interested in her?"

Dean turned his face out of the pillow. "She pretended to have a Girls Gone Wild moment, then flipped him off."

"She... flipped off the king of Hell?" Sam wanted to make sure he heard that right.

"I know," Dean mumbled, "Definitely related to us."

Castiel turned to Sam. "He said he wanted to corrupt her, but it's not likely that would be possible."

Sam took a moment. "When did Crowley says that?"

"I summoned him," Dean said, turning over.

"After Dean got some information out of Crowley. He showed an inappropriate amount of interest in her, and then he figured out she's a Lamed Vavnik."

Sam considered Castiel's demeanor. He seemed aggravated by this, in a way that was far from normal. He put his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "It'll be okay, Cas. We'll all keep her safe, and Crowley will move on to something else."

"I hope you're right, Sam."

Dean's voice came from the bed. "Okay, we're done, right? I gotta sleep it off."

* * *

Sam walked into the kitchen, having not yet had his fill of coffee, to find Melissa with her phone on speaker at the table, and three different spiral notebooks and a sleek black laptop open in front of her.

"I don't care if they're 'only' laying people off in customer support, it's one of the most stressful jobs we have, if they did the work, you pay them. You can't dock severance packages."

A voice came through the phone, staticky and fed up. "We had a budget shortfall. It's got to come from somewhere, and in a couple of weeks these folks will be working somewhere else, and forget all about it."

"Well I'm glad you think so, because I'm tempted to set you up with one of these diminished packages you're recommending, since you think it's such a sweet deal."

"Please try to see it from our side, Melissa-"

"Ms. Faulkner. You know, the name on the side of the building."

"Ms. Faulkner. Sorry. We can only employ so many during this time-"

"And when things are looking up again," she cut him off again, "If we've treated them like crap leaving, they won't want to come back, friends and family will want nothing to do with us. The packages don't change. Send me the budget, I'll look it over and call Chase when I've got a better idea what I'm looking at."

"Alright, anything else, Ms. Faulkner?"

"No, Rog, you have a nice day." she said cheerfully, hanging up, and writing something down, continuing to mutter, "...put my ass-kicking boots on, come straight up to your office, jerk..."

Sam tried not to stare, but she looked up. "What's up?"

Sam shook his head. "Just getting some coffee. What was that about? I thought other people ran it for you, and sent you a check?"

"For the most part, but if something goes wrong, Chase and I have the ability to step in. Things went pretty bad the first time my dad tried to step down, so we learned from him how to keep a lid on the executives that would run it out from under us."

Sam nodded, watching her close the first spiral note book, and move to the next. "This one is for the non-profit, we're working on opening two food bank branches and a small women's shelter by the end of the year. My favorite project right now. It's going to help a lot of people."

"What's the last one?" Sam asked, leaning over the table to see.

"That's all the boring organizational stuff I work through for my church. It really takes a congregation to run it, and this way the real go-getters can get out and about on the projects they really have a heart for."

"So you do the boring stuff so other people can help make the world a better place?"

"Yep."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"Who else is going to do it?"

Sam chuckled, "Your own brand of saving people. That's great... Hey, Dean said when you went out to the bridge that night, you got attacked by that demon, it tried to jump into you, but it's couldn't. Cas told me why, but what I don't get is how did you know to dump holy water into the girl's mouth?"

Melissa shrugged. "I had no idea that was how someone gets possessed, but I figured if the water would hurt the demon, it would, I don't know, 'close the door'?"

Sam nodded. "It's smart. I'm going to remember it, any time we can get a demon out without killing someone in the process, that's one more person we can save."


	20. Chapter 20

(A/N: This one is going to be a lot heavier on the legend of the 36 hidden saints, because, omg, lore! I mean, lore and it's crucial inaccuracies are why we all love SPN, right? Has nothing to do with the numerous prime examples of manhood... lol, no, can't keep a straight face, but I gots to get my nerd on. This is a story, though, and I'm making up about half of it, because that's how fiction works, so don't take anything Cas says as actual lore.

Unexpected turn, had to add a big

TRIGGER WARNING...

...there is a strong but brief implication of past gang-rape in this chapter, without being specific if it happened, or was just about to happen.

It fit, but I didn't want to go into detail.

Please take care of your mental health! Lots of love!

Thanks for reading! FW)

* * *

Crowley sat on his throne, doing his best to ignore his irritating yes-men while also doling out punishments to anyone bringing him a complaint.

At one point he was certain he had sentenced one of the yes-men on accident, but appearances had to be kept up.

Bored with his thoughts, he turned to the nearest subject. "Who's watching the Winchesters, currently?"

"Maggio, m'lord."

"If the Tzadik Nistar leaves, I want to hear about it immediately, and I want her followed."

* * *

Sam had been reading for the better part of two hours when Dean made his way into the library with two bottles. "What do you got?"

Sam shrugged. "If a Lamed Vavnik discovers what they are, they die immediately and a new one is born."

Dean opened his beer, handing the other to Sam. "And Melissa isn't dead."

"The lore isn't always right. But get this, the minute they die, another is born, so there are always 36. But if one is corrupted, doesn't die, the next one can't be born, and without all of the 36, God destroys the world, or otherwise allows it to collapse."

"We need to find out what the real story is on this, where's..." Dean shook his head. "Nevermind."

"Cas went out for nachos." Sam said, smirking at Dean's obvious discomfort.

"He doesn't eat."

"But Melissa does. Don't worry, I told him to grab some for you."

"Nachos... You know, first time I saw her, I thought she was a little pudgy, but after trying to kidnap her, well, let me tell you, she's actually pretty strong."

Sam put the book down and reached for his beer. "What?"

"Seriously." Dean said. "Think about it. Between her mom being ripped, and dad, you know. I squeezed her bicep, and-"

Sam made a face. "You squeezed her bicep?"

Dean shrugged, "She followed Cas into the room when I dragged Crowley in, and I was just getting her back out into the hallway."

"Do you know how weird you sound?" Sam asked, turning as he heard footsteps. "Hey, Melissa?"

"Yeah?" Melissa answered, coming into the library with a coffee cup and her laptop.

"Dean wants to know how much you can bench." Sam said, looking directly at Dean.

"I... uh, I don't bench." Melissa answered, moving to set her things down.

"That is not what I said." Dean said, much to Sam's amusement.

"No, you said you squeezed her bicep."

"What?" Melissa asked, turning to Dean, "Why?"

"I was telling Sam how I thought you were pudgy, but..." he looked up, and there was the death glare he had forgotten she possessed. "Yeah, that, uh, that came out wrong."

All at once Sam's jaw dropped, the door in the next room opened, and Melissa crossed her arms.

"Pudgy?"

Castiel looked over the railing, take-out bags in his hands. He had a feeling he had walked into something very uncomfortable.

"I thought that at first, but you're not."

"And you figured that out with bicep squeezing?"

"I wasn't trying to squeeze your biceps. I just needed to get you away from Crowley."

Castiel came down the stairs quietly, trying to catch Sam's eye, hoping he'd say something to calm them down, but Sam was busy looking back and forth between his siblings.

Melissa sat silently for a moment before turning to Sam. "How deep does he dig himself into these holes?"

"Pretty deep."

She turned back to Dean. "Okay. It just so happens, I am pudgy. But at least I don't go around squeezing people like Hansel and Gretel's witch fattening up a Thanksgiving turkey. Now I'm going to go cram some nachos in my face, and harden my arteries, because cholesterol tastes amazing. And if you can stop talking, yours might not end up on your head."

With that, she stood and hurried Castiel off to the kitchen.

Dean watched them leave, then turned back to Sam.

"Dude, what the hell, man?" Sam whispered loudly. "You never talk about a girl's weight in front of her!"

"I talk about your weight all the time, and you're a girl. Hell, you're bigger than me, bitch."

"Go eat your pile of cheese, jerk."

* * *

Castiel set the bags on the kitchen table, as Melissa started taking styrofoam boxes out of the bags.

"I don't understand what was happening, your behavior suggests you were upset, but I don't sense any agitation from you." Castiel said, glancing at the door to the hall.

"I'm not upset, Dean just stuck his foot in his mouth, so I had to bust his chops a little, it's the principle of the thing." Melissa said, not bothering to look up and see Castiel watching her.

"Then, you are getting along with them alright? No... animosity?"

Melissa looked up. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, look at what they've gone through to help me, and they barely know me. People like that are rare."

Castiel nodded, putting his hand on Melissa's back, and leaning just slightly to kiss her forehead.

Dean could see this from the doorway, and made an eye-averted beeline for the fridge as he entered the kitchen.

"So... St Louis... " Dean said a little louder than normal before turning around. "We should hash out a plan tonight. I'm thinking Sam and I shake the place down, while you watch for these danger signs we aren't seeing, what do you say, Cas?"

Castiel was thinking it over.

"What do I do?" Melissa asked.

"You stay here. If you croak, they'll be able to get the location of your kids." Dean explained. "And the way Crowley tells it, it's the only way for them to get the location of your kids, so we gotta keep you breathing."

"Great. So I get to sit on my thumbs while you guys go out counter-hunting." Melissa slid one of the styrofoam boxes closer to Dean as he approached the table.

Sam came in, receiving a boxed salad from Castiel. "Not a lot of options, sorry Melissa. But you'll be okay here by yourself, right? Cas is strong enough to zap himself back if you need something."

"Or, I step outside long enough to draw them this way, make this local, just be the bait." Melissa said with raised eyebrows.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean all echoed the same word. "No!"

Sam continued, "We've had that plan bite us in the ass more times than we can count, it never ends well. Not going to happen."

* * *

Dean managed to corner Castiel in the library after lunch. "Sam was doing some research trying to figure out why Crowley's trying to get involved, and something doesn't add up."

"How do you mean?" Castiel asked.

"The lore says if a..." Dean took a moment, trying not to reference llamas again, "If one of the 36 saints find out what they are, they die, because they can't know what they are and continue to live."

Castiel moved to a chair, nodding. "That is in the lore, but it's false."

"Okay. And you already knew it was false when you said it right in front of her?"

"Of course, Dean. I cannot harm a saint. If she would have died from hearing it, I would have been unable to say it."

"She passed out and had to go to the hospital. How's that not harming her?"

"It was a... carefully weighed risk. You did have a gun to her head." Castiel wasn't sure that came out as helpfully as he meant it, as Dean started rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay. And how about the part about the world ending if one is corrupted?" Dean asked, leaning on the table. "You gotta tell me that's fake, too."

Castiel looked away. "That's a fairly simple way to explain it."

"So it's true? She goes bad, everything falls apart?"

"It's more complex than that, Dean."

"Great. So glad we get our choice of apocalypse this time. Crowley messes her up, we all die, or the creeps busting open the cage get to use her kids to nuke the planet."

Castiel shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Enlighten me."

Castiel turned to look in the direction of the kitchen, then back to Dean. "Not here."

Dean, thoroughly irritated by this point, led the way to the weapons room, well out of earshot of Sam and Melissa. Having walked ahead of him, he hadn't noticed the change in Castiel's demeanor, but once he shut the door behind him, it was clear. "Okay, spill it. All of it."

Castiel was rigid, with fear or anger, maybe anxiety, Dean couldn't be certain. "It's not strictly true that all of the Tzadikim Nistarim are corruptible. Only the ones who are the most damaged. The ones who have had to be strong because life gave them no other option."

Dean started to pace. "And she's been through a lot. She's one of the broken ones, isn't she?"

"Yes. But that also makes her one of the strongest." Castiel was avoiding looking at Dean. "It's also not strictly true that I can't harm her..."

Dean stopped. He stared at Castiel, hard. "And the details on that?"

Castiel looked up. "There is a brief period of time while corruption takes place during which an angel can kill her to prevent the destruction of the world."

Dean's eyes widened for a moment, reading Castiel's face. He knew him well enough to recognize anger and shame there. "That's why you stuck around her. You were afraid she'd snap..."

"Dean..."

"What else?"

Castiel looked at the floor again.

"Hold on... is this on my dad? The symbols he carved into her? Because if you had saved her from that, he wouldn't have been able to finish the symbols..." Castiel refused to meet his eyes. Dean took a deep breath. "What else happened? What did you save her from?"

"It had nothing to do with your father... and it was far worse."

Dean raised his eyebrows expecting Castiel to finish his sentence. "...Her ex husband?"

"No. A group of boys from her high school. If anything, what your father did is what made her strong enough that we heard her cries for help. The torture she endured at your father's hands is what saved her life."

Castiel looked up, half expecting a violent outburst from Dean.

"Anything else I should know?" Dean asked in a shaky voice.

"If Crowley corrupts her, the fact that she is still alive because of actions I took, going against the consensus of my garrison, makes her my responsibility. And you were right, fear of her becoming corrupted is what kept me checking on her through the years. I care for her deeply, Dean, but as you once asked me to 'end you,' if you became evil, I bear the same responsibility to her. The only difference is, she doesn't know, and I can never tell her, at the risk of causing her to turn in the first place."

Castiel watched Dean, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Dean stayed silent, leaning his back against a shelf.

Castiel started for the door, but as he moved to walk past Dean, Dean pushed himself away from the shelf, and threw his arms around his friend.

"Thank you. For getting her out of there." He let go and took a step back, patting Castiel's shoulder. "And she's not going to go bad. Bad stuff happened, and she didn't have her big brothers to protect her then, but she's got us now, and she's got you. She'll be okay."

Castiel shifted nervously. "You won't tell her, will you?"

"And maybe corrupt her on accident? No. Of course not."


	21. Chapter 21

(A/N: Took a break, but I'm back! Currently having too many ideas for a new story, and I'm trying to stay on track with this one. It's a little short, but with a lot of momentum.)

* * *

Sam had barely had time to run a load of laundry when he was packing up, getting ready to head out for St. Louis that evening. He had helped Melissa connect to the printer, and she was wrist deep in reviewing paperwork he was sure would be boring even for him. He wasn't sure where Dean and Castiel had gone, but when they showed up again, something was different. He wondered briefly what had been said, but left it alone.

He found Dean in the garage a little later, obviously checking his car for excess legos and army men, but trying to act like everything was fine. Sam opened the trunk to get one last thing he had forgotten, a small, white cardboard box, roughly the size of a deck of cards.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure." Dean said abruptly, "Making sure she doesn't give us any surprises on the road. No weird noises, or anything?"

Sam shook his head.

"Well, might be about time for the brakes. I'll do that when we get back." Dean said, continuing to eye the car.

Sam nodded, and made his way out of the garage. He went into the library, and put the box on the table next to Melissa. "Leann sent this back with me for you. Forgot it was in the trunk. "

"Oh, thanks." she said, putting her pen down and opening the lid a bit. "There's a spot on their land that has a particularly strong strain of American mistletoe. It's good for invisibility spells, she said she'd bottle it for me."

"Mistletoe turns people invisible?"

"No," Melissa said, chuckling, "It's metaphorical. Like you could walk past someone in a crowd and they wouldn't notice you, not like literally see-through, just good for hiding in plain sight, or not being tracked."

"What are those crystals in the bottom?"

"Quartz. Keeps it charged up." she passed him the bottle. "Take a look."

Sam turned it over in his hands. It resembled an herb infused oil served as a bread dip he'd had in an Italian restaurant once, but with small yellow stones in the bottom. He handed the bottle back to her, and sat down at his laptop.

"What are going to use it for?"

Melissa put the bottle back in the box. "I'll add it to a few other things, and hopefully you guys will get to St Louis unnoticed."

"Shouldn't you save some of it to keep yourself hidden, too?" Sam asked, distractedly, searching the web.

"There's plenty, it doesn't take much. It's more of the intentions anyway."

Sam barely noticed she had spoken, of that Dean had entered the room. "A heart was stolen..."

"What?" Dean asked. Sam looked up, not expecting to hear his brother.

"A heart was stolen. It was en route for an organ transplant for a two year old girl." Sam said, reading from the screen.

Melissa rubbed her forehead, "That's awful. A baby that young, the donor would be a similar age, so not only did one child die, the recipient is likely to die as well, it's not like they have tons of tiny hearts laying around."

Dean leaned over Sam's shoulder to look at the screen. Sam continued, "It was going from Frankfurt, Kentucky, headed to Colombia, Missouri."

"And St Louis is on the way." Dean mumbled. He stood up quickly, heading for the hallway. "Cas?..."

Sam looked over his screen to Melissa. "Maybe you should call and check on your kids?"

Melissa nodded and picked up her phone from the table in front of her, and started for the kitchen.

Sam could vaguely hear Dean speaking to Castiel somewhere off in the many corridors.

* * *

"Anything you might be able to do for the little girl who was supposed to get that missing heart?" Dean asked, having explained the situation.

Castiel nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

"Okay. Call when you're done, hopefully we'll be on the road already."

Dean had turned away before he heard the rustle of Castiel's wings, and was already walking back to the library when Sam passed him, headed for his own room. "I'm nearly packed, how soon can we get out of here?"

"Ten minutes?" Dean shrugged, and changed direction for his own room.

* * *

Castiel had found the dying child's room easily. She was sleeping, worried family all around her, her skin grayish and dark circles below her eyes. She had maybe a week at most.

Unseen, he went to her bedside. He could feel the marker in her genes causing the deterioration immediately.

He considered for a moment, that he had rebuilt Dean when raising him from Hell, and while that was no small difficulty, this should have been a fairly easy fix. However, being cut off from Heaven, all his power had to come from his grace alone.

If he didn't heal her, he would have more grace available to use in battle. To protect Sam and Dean, to keep Melissa and her children safe. If he healed the child, he'd be running low again, and less use in a fight, and risking the lives of those he cared for.

He wondered if he'd be able to reach the child's soul to use her own power in order to heal her, or if she was too weak, and would perish in the process.

Unheard by the parents, grandparents, and two sisters in the room, he leaned over the little girl, and whispered in her ear. "Rosie, it's time to wake up."

He stood up, placing his hand over her heart, uncertain what he'd be able to do once he'd healed her.

* * *

Dean looked at his watch as he paced in the garage. Sam came in, putting his bag into open trunk of the Impala, and seeing Dean's already inside, closed the lid. "Cas isn't back yet?"

"He can meet us on the road." Dean said, moving to open the driver's door.

Melissa hurried in, "Hold on, take this with you."

She handed Sam, who was closer to her, a jar of an odd looking fluid. "Smudge a little of this on the inside of your left wrist every 12 hours.. you know what? Make it every 10. Castiel, too, when he-"

A gust of wind and a loud thump behind him made Dean spin on his heel. "Cas!"

Sam hurried around to the other side of the car, where Castiel was getting up off the floor. Dean was keeping him upright. "Is that baby okay?"

"Rosie Pearson will live." Castiel said roughly.

"What about you?" Sam asked, "What was that, a crash landing? You're in no shape to leave."

"I'll patch him up. He'll probably get back to you before you make it half way across Missouri." Melissa said, taking Dean's place at Castiel's side, shoeing him back to the car. "Just put some of that stuff on before you pull out of here, okay?"

Dean looked at Castiel, still struggling to stay upright, and back to Melissa. "You're sure you got this?"

Sam tapped Dean's jacket sleeve, and headed back to the car, "You know she does, let's go."

Dean reluctantly got in the car, watching Melissa help Castiel through the doorway as he started the engine. He barely noticed Sam shove the jar of weird stuff under his nose. He looked confused for a moment before Sam exasperatedly stuck his own finger into the fluid, and smeared it on Dean's left wrist, closed the jar tightly, and stuck it in the glove box.

Dean shook his head, and put the car in gear, as Sam began setting a timer on his phone as they rolled out of the garage.

As they pulled out onto the gravel road leading away from the bunker, they failed to notice a pair of eyes in the near vicinity. Maggio wasn't sure who had been in the car, but he was at the right vantage point to know who was still in the bunker.

* * *

Melissa did her best to get Castiel down the hallway, but all too soon, he was leaning on the wall, and then slipping to the floor. She turned him as he went, getting his back to the wall to keep him as upright as possible.

"Stay awake, you've got to stay awake... Castiel?"

His head bobbed slightly, he was trying. He was fighting to stay fully conscious.

"Okay, we don't have time for this." Melissa said, gritting her teeth. She took a quick look around, nothing to hit her head on but the floor, and hopefully Castiel would be back to rights before that could happen.

Melissa knelt, straddling his lap, his limp hands on the floor by her knees. She took his face into her hands, steadying his head. "Please, please, let this work..."

Castiel's eyes opened for just a moment, but it was fairly clear he didn't see her.

Melissa began sinking into her trance. It was slow, keeping herself upright, holding Castiel's head up, and wondering if grace could even be put into an unconscious angel... and yet, there was something else. Something lurking nearby.

She pushed it out of her mind. Of course there was something, she was being followed by whatever was hunting her children. But it couldn't get into the bunker.

Her emotions calmed, her mind focused, Melissa noticed she began to sway, and stilled herself. She had never had to face this much difficulty before, even the first time Castiel had told her the theory of transferring grace, it had been easier than this.

Finally, the spinning sensations started. Light, mostly colored light, in waves of it, travelling through her, condensing like drops of water in the lid of a boiling pot, filling her throat chakra.

As the grace built, she tried to allow it to seep from her as it always had before.

Subconsciously, her soul reached for Castiel, prodding him, attempting to get his attention, to wake him. It wasn't working.

The dilemma of grace in the wrong type of vessel began to burn within her. She felt choked, gagged, and stabbed all at once.

Melissa pulled Castiel forward, clumsily finding his lips with her throat, and finally the grace found it's own way to him, the pain beginning to subside. Unfortunately, it wasn't leaving her fast enough. The swaying returned, but with nothing to steady herself, she faltered.

* * *

Castiel became aware of hands on either side of his face, and warmth flowing very slowly into his mouth. Deep within his own grace, where the new grace was fading into his own, it began to pool, but something was off. Something forced.

He knew that scent, the feel of these hands, but he wasn't able to come around, not entirely. The depths holding him hostage eased slightly, but his energy was still very tapped.

Castiel dreamed for a moment that he was standing on a small boat on a large lake, the waves rocking him back and forth, and suddenly he was awake.

Melissa had collapsed to the side of him, and he had been unable to catch her.

He took a moment to move one of her legs off of his before reaching to gather her up, when just past her hair, he spotted two very well polished shoes.

Castiel frowned, and continued to pick up the unconscious form of his lover.

Finally on his unsteady feet, his arms heavy, Castiel turned away, refusing to be the first to speak.


	22. Chapter 22

(A/N: Well... this turned out to be a very long, and graphic chapter... Damn. Remember, rating! Consenting adults doing things consentingly. Don't care for it, skip ahead!)

* * *

Dean tried not to think about the way Castiel had been stumbling, or the way Melissa seemed far too small to help him. He tried to let go of the thought in the back of his mind that he and Sam should have at least carried him back into the bunker, rationalizing that Castiel had been on his feet when they left.

Sam had set that timer a while ago, and he was still staring at his phone.

"Anything else?" Dean asked, just to break the silence and get his mind off the two people left in the bunker. "Find us some missing sacred ram livers?"

Sam shook his head. "No, looking up that little girl. It's already all over the local news, she's out of the woods, and no longer expected to need a transplant at all. They're saying it's a miracle."

Dean nodded. "That's good."

Sam was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "As short as human lives are to him, do you think Cas knows how much that matters? Saving a life like that? She could grow up to cure the condition that she was dying of. Or be the first person on Mars... I wonder if Cas ever went to Mars."

Dean shrugged slightly. "I know he feels responsible for the lives he's saved."

"How's that?"

"He's still hanging around with us."

Sam chuckled.

* * *

Castiel staggered a bit as he made his way down the hall.

"It was quite a fascinating display, really. I wouldn't mind seeing it again."

He cursed Crowley in his mind, staggering a bit as he reached Melissa's door.

"Any other interesting tricks she can do?"

The door was shut, and his hands were very full... Before Castiel could work out how to get the door open, Crowley leaned in much too close, and turned the knob, catching Castiel's eyes as he did so.

"Thank you," Castiel said, reluctantly, before walking into the room and placing Melissa on the bed as gently as he could manage in his rather depleted condition.

Slowly, he stood again, not looking forward to having to make conversation with Crowley. He turned around.

"Why are you here?"

"I can't drop in when I have the time?"

"Dean said you wanted to ruffle some feathers." Castiel said, suspicion never leaving him for a moment.

"Not yours, darling. At least not today."

Castiel looked back over his shoulder. "I'm not sure what happened, but this went very badly. I have to help her heal. You need to leave."

Crowley stepped around Castiel, who continued to watch him closely. He stepped to the side of the bed, taking a closer look at Melissa's face. He looked around the room a bit, before facing Castiel again. "A bit more than healing has been going on in here... But I digress. You need her, don't you? Cut off from Heaven, as it were? And she's your grace-donor."

Castiel said nothing, just looking away.

"And she's just given you a transfusion with all the delicate care of a hatchet and bucket, not knowing any better, hasn't she? But you can't heal her right now, can you? No... you're going to have to wait. That's time you don't have."

Crowley stepped closer to Castiel. "Normally I trade for souls, but in your case, I think I can make an exception, if you're up for a deal."

Castiel growled something vague under his breath.

"Sorry, Enochian was never my strong suit, but I'll take that as a tentative 'no.' If you change your mind, I won't be far."

Castiel went straight to Melissa's purse, and pulled out an eyebrow pencil. He closed the door and drew a sigil he hadn't used in years, sealing the room from all outside influences, before turning off the lamp and laying down next to her.

He could feel the ebb and flow of her soul, comforted now by his presence, and healing her quickly, in spite of interference from trapped grace. She was certain to make it through the night, especially without further interruption of the rest they both desperately needed.

* * *

When Castiel woke, it had only been about two hours, and he was careful not to move and wake Melissa.

In the pitch black, broken only by a faint glow at the bottom of the door across the room, he could still see clearly, unlike when he had been human.

Melissa hadn't budged at all, when normally she would move a bit as she slept. He reached for her with his waning grace, finding her health improved slightly, but still hindered by the small amount of grace caught in her throat chakra. He looked closer, it was still trying to come out, and a stand had gotten caught, holding the chakra open.

Hesitant to cause her any pain, he tried to pull it free using his grace, but it wasn't working. He could feel the pain it was causing her.

"Melissa? Can you hear me?"

She didn't stir.

Castiel leaned over her, propped up on an elbow, and put one hand along the side of her neck, trying to coax the chakra to open and release the trapped grace. He lowered his head in an attempt to accept it, and pull it free as gently as possible, not sure how it would affect Melissa.

His grace was able to spin the chakra just slightly, and start it opening, but her pain, which he was experiencing, was unbearable. Without thinking, trying to minimize the pain, he darted his tongue out to try to open the chakra further, and promptly felt as though he had been punched in the back of the throat with the grace she released.

He sat up choking and gagging as his vessel attempted to accommodate the newest grace. After a moment he noticed Melissa's breathing had changed, it was deeper, more conscious, and pained. He turned around to find her eyes open, and her hand on her throat... "Oww.. what the hell?"

"It's alright now. Did you try to supply me with new grace while I was unable to accept it?" Castiel asked, still tired.

"Yeah, did it work?"

"Not exactly. You were able to force a small amount into me, but the rest was trapped in you." He turned on the lamp. "You could have died."

"I'm fine. And we have to get you ready to leave." Melissa said, sitting up and moving closer to him.

Castiel felt her attempting to start her trance, and put his hand on her arm to distract her. "Don't. You're not ready to do this again so soon."

"I think I know better than you do."

Castiel felt the three grace types churning, his own, the grace she had supplied him the day before, and the new, strangely textured grace. She was impatient with him, in a hurry to have him powered up and back where he was supposed to be, on the road with her brothers.

He felt impatient with her, as well. "You aren't considering your own safety. You still have grace trapped inside you, and you're going to get hurt if you continue to draw more of it."

Castiel felt her throat chakra pulse painfully, and leaned towards her, to take some more of the grace from it. It was easier this time, but whether it was from habit or intention, he felt her trance begin. He ran his hand up and down her arm to distract her once again, and the feeling faded.

When he was certain he had removed as much grace as he could, he backed away from her neck to look at her face. The pain was only a dull throb now, but he still felt badly that she had gotten hurt in an attempt to help him.

Melissa lifted her hand to the side of his face, "Are you upset with me?"

Castiel looked away, "Not exactly."

"Liar." Melissa said, bringing his lips to her own.

Castiel wasn't expecting it, but soon relaxed into the kiss, and began to take over, pressing past her lips as her hands moved up to his shoulders, but as she did, he could feel her chakras begin to turn once more. He pulled back abruptly.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" he asked.

"Same purpose as last time. Why?"

"No, I don't mean... I mean are you still trying to build a supply of grace?"

"No. You just told me to stop." Melissa looked confused.

He began to back away. "It's becoming involuntary. I should leave."

Melissa looked away, "If that's what you want to do."

"It's not what I want, Melissa. But I'm concerned for your safety."

"Or, you can heal me, and I can recharge you, and get you back to fighting the good fight." she shrugged.

Castiel kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her, watching his grace carefully as he healed her slowly.

Through his connection with her, he felt a heat trickle slowly through her entire body, followed by a cool satin feel. He had been uneasy about tapping what grace he had left, but it took less effort than he thought it would. The shudder he felt from the woman in his arms, along with the sensation he felt through her was well worth the attempt at a slow heal, and he made a mental note to attempt it again another time.

Everything but the present moment pressed far from her mind, Melissa's hands began tugging at his lapels. He caught her hands, putting his thumbs into her palms and spreading her arms wide, leaning her backward until she was laying on the bed. Suddenly, all of their clothes were gone.

"What did you do?" she gasped.

"Is this not what you wanted?" Castiel asked genuinely.

"Um, no, I did, that was just a little fast."

"I can put them back."

"No." Melissa shook her head, still a bit breathless, "This is okay, this is good."

Castiel let his eyes wander over her body, feeling the cool air of the room against her flushed skin through her nerves more than he felt it against his own vessel.

"There's something I would like to try... if you'll allow me?"

"I trust you, Castiel. Just go slow this time, I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable."

Castiel kissed her, sliding his hands along her arms, over her shoulders, passing around her breasts, accidentally grazing a nipple with his thumb as he moved his lips down the side of her neck, giving them both pause. His hands settled firmly on her hips, finding a perfect amount of pressure for his grip.

Freed, her hands began to wander the flesh of his back as he moved lower. He hesitated, resting the side of his face against her stomach as he slid his hand down to her knee, pulling it aside, then looking back up to her face, silently watching for permission. Melissa's hand found his, still on her hip, and stroked between his fingers. He decided to take that as a hint that his pace was appropriate, and he could proceed.

Melissa's anticipation was growing, setting his nerves on edge. Mentally he reminded himself of her words. _Slowly_...

A shiver ran through the two of them as his hot breath curled against her skin unexpectedly, and conscious thought abandoned them both. He lowered his mouth against her body, tasting her slick, wet flesh. Her gasps and moans echoed in his ears, as her body writhed of it's own accord.

He slowed for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of her face, but her head was thrown back in pleasure, her breasts moving in a way that he was certain affected him alone.

He continued, the touch of his lips, tongue, and now fingers making ripples through his own body as well, and found himself grinding against the bed.

Castiel was shaking, and attempting to make sense of the few words forming in between the ragged breathing and moans of his name coming from further up the bed. He knew they were both on the very brink, and finding her words had only been encouragement, was about to bring them both to completion when something made him freeze.

Her root chakra, full and blooming, as it should be, given the activity, turning against his hand and his two fingers situated within her body, began to vibrate upwards, pulling power up her body, moving far too quickly, waking the subsequent chakras, and all of them were forming grace.

Never in her deepest meditation had Castiel seen Melissa's soul awaken this way. He was vaguely aware of her whimper as he drew himself up quickly, removing his hand as gently as he could. It still wasn't as gently as he meant, rasping the pads of his fingers past a sensitive place within her, startling them both.

The grace stuck suddenly within her stopped heart chakra, not near enough to her throat, and the amount she contained was past his ability to measure. He also couldn't get to it to remove it from her body.

"What's happening?" Melissa asked, her voice rough.

Castiel's fear allowed his lust to take over, anything to continue the path of grace up her body. His hands and mouth were at her chest in a heartbeat.

Against her skin, Castiel managed a few coherent words as he attempted to ease her heart chakra into turning. "You did mean it, that you trust me?"

"I trust you," she said, gasping. One of his hands had clasped a breast, his lips, the opposite nipple. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling just a little more than he wanted, and her hips rocked against him.

The chakra began to turn again. He thrust into her, burying himself in her body, gasping into her ear as she moaned loudly. She was on the very edge, he could feel it.

Castiel did everything he could to hide it, but he was afraid. His vessel, despite being destroyed and rebuilt by divine intervention had never contained the amount of grace he was about to internalize. He was uncertain of his own survival, but it was either chance it, or Melissa would be lost. And he was the one who asked her to learn this backfiring skill in order to save his own life in the first place.

He lowered his mouth close to her throat, the chakra there ready to burst, and brought his palms up to cover her eyes firmly. On instinct, Melissa shook her head.

Castiel whispered, "Please trust me..."

He felt her stop trying to shake his hands away, and instead she gave an aware nod.

He began to thrust deep and hard, doing his best to rock against her with each motion. He could feel it, he was sure she was nearly there. He ran his tongue against the edge of the delicate light blue glow.

A moment later, the room was awash in bright white light. Melissa's entire body had tensed around him, her voice a broken scream of his name, as the entire room seemed to shake.

Castiel could feel his wings, far more corporeal than ever before as he did his best to take, and contain the new grace. His whole vessel burned, and not just from the experience her orgasm was having on him.

Melissa's hands attempted to move across the flesh of his back, desperate for the feel of his skin as they continued to rock in the same motion, and wound up tangled in silky slick, dense feathers.

Castiel growled deeply against her neck, the grace nearly emptied. Finally the chakra began to close. Still moving against her, his body shaking now more than thrusting, his voice a wreck, Castiel moaned, and began to gasp. "Pull.. please... please.."

Melissa, still in her own throes, pulled gently on the feathers in her hand.

Castiel's body thrashed in pleasure, and crashed into that final wave, his wings coming down around them both. He could feel every feather against her skin and his own.

A moment later he collapsed heavily, hands still firmly over Melissa's eyes. He could feel her enjoyment of his weight upon her, and didn't attempt to move.

Furthermore, he found he was still alive.

He looked to her face. The lamp had been blown out or shaken to the floor, he wasn't sure which, and the room was now pitch black.

Melissa felt the feathers in her hand either slip away or disolve, and her hand came to rest on his bare skin.

"That was incredible..." she breathed.

Castiel slowly removed his hands from the top half of her face, lifting his head up from her shoulder. He kissed her deeply as he moved out of her, slowly. He gave a small groan as he felt the friction against the tenderness of her somewhat abused tissues. He continued to kiss her as he slipped his hand between them. A moment later the pain was gone.

"Are you going to stay with me, or are you heading out?"

"It's nearly dawn. I'll come back in a few hours. Just wait here for a moment." Castiel said, then disappeared. He was standing by the bed a moment later, taking Melissa by the wrist, pressing a flashlight into her hand.

Melissa hit the button as Castiel stood up holding a rather mangled lamp, placing it back on the bedside table. The broken glass that should have littered the floor was gone.

He lifted a hand toward the door, and the sigil she could barely make out was also gone, and a moment later, so was he.

Melissa turned the flashlight off, stretching out on the bed, only to turn it back on again and shine it at the door to be sure it was locked before returning to her previous position.

Unobserved by human eyes, however, and unhindered by the average lock, the other being in the room went unnoticed.


	23. Chapter 23

(A/N: Okay, that last line was freaking creepy. Not sure where I was going with that, but I better do better than with Lita's note. Dean was supposed to find out what it said the same day, and I forgot. Shows how well I pay attention. But hey, it popped up again while re-reading, and right when it needed to, I hope.

I took a long break, but I'm back, and ready to end this thing, hopefully in a huge way. Not yet, of course.

Thanks for reading! Hope you're as amused as I am. )

* * *

The Impala swerved slightly when Castiel appeared suddenly in the rear view mirror.

"...And here you are," Sam said, hanging up his phone.

Dean shook his head. Just one of those weird things you live with when one of your closest friends is an angel. "You feeling better, Cas?"

"Much better, yes." Castiel said. He considered explaining that he was actually far more energized, and had a better disposition than normally, but Dean had been acting strangely any time his words could be misconstrued. "I should be at full strength, now."

"Good," Sam said, handing Castiel the jar from the glove box, "That will help."

Castiel handed the jar back almost immediately, Sam wasn't sure he'd even opened it, but he saw him run a finger across his wrist. "Maybe I should go ahead, and find out what we're dealing with..."

"We'll be there soon enough, Cas." Dean reassured him. "No reason to rush in."

* * *

Crowley caught a trace of ozone in the air, mixed with a mild sugary scent. He continued to pace the room silently.

Melissa hadn't covered herself very thoroughly, and he had slipped into the room the moment Castiel's presence was gone. She slept deeply, flashlight having rolled a few inches from her hand.

He bent down and picked up a very long black feather from the floor. In the near complete darkness, he could feel more than see it coming apart into traces of the finest black powder.

Crowley held it above Melissa in amusement, watching the particles drift down slowly to land on her bare skin. Nearly gone, he dragged what was left of the feather over the curve of her breast, leaving the faintest line, before scrawling a quick design as the feather faded into nothing.

Pleased with himself, and the slightest of smug smiles flickering at the corners of his mouth, he was gone.

Melissa hummed quietly and turned over.

* * *

It was already daylight when the Impala parked three blocks away from the abandoned factory in St Louis.

The three of them gathered what they assumed would be needed from the trunk, and began a slow, careful approach toward the building.

Having planned during the drive, once the building was in sight, Castiel took a hidden position on a roof toward the back of the factory, looking for defenses and weak points as Sam and Dean crept toward the front and side of the factory at ground level.

The front of the factory was deserted. Dean could see Sam further away, checking the side of the building. Sam held up a hand indicating three people at the side of the building. Dean motioned Sam to come back to where it was clear.

Dean checked his silenced phone as Sam made his way back through cover. Castiel had sent a text message.

'No guards on the north or east sides. Movement in east windows 2nd floor'

Soon, Sam was at his side. He was about to mention the movement Castiel had seen, but with a familiar flutter, he stood before them.

"I've taken care of the guards, we should be able to get in now."

"Just like that, huh?" Dean asked, partly surprised, partly irritated. "You want to warn us next time?"

Castiel was already moving toward a door.

"Cas, how long can you stay at full power like this before you have to recharge?" Sam asked add they hurried after him.

"I won't need to pace myself, if that's what you're wondering, Sam." Castiel flung the door open a little too forcefully, and entered the building.

* * *

Melissa sat up, rubbing her eyes, vaguely remembering the lamp had been broken. She found the flashlight easily enough, and in the darkness, headed for the bathroom.

A short time later, Melissa stepped out of the shower, toweling her hair. She hadn't slept that deeply in a long time.

She wiped the mirror off to check on what she was sure was a pimple starting to form, but now, thoroughly awake, she noticed something else. She looked down sharply.

Delicate black lines crossed over themselves in a sharp symmetrical pattern on the side of her right breast.

She began to scrub at them with the towel, trembling.

"No..." her voice came out a broken whimper as her panic began to build. "No, no, no..."

She scrubbed harder, but the lines wouldn't fade or smear, and her skin was becoming red and raw. Her breathing was a mess, tears streaming down her face of their own accord.

* * *

Castiel moved through the abandoned factory silently heading for a staircase near the back.

Sam and Dean followed, eyes darting around the large floor Castiel seemed sure to be empty.

"Thought so." Crowley's voice came from behind them. "Never takes you long, does it?"

The door at the top of the staircase opened. Four beings, human, demon, or angel, emerged.

"Crowley," Sam said, being closest to him, "Unless you're here to help, it's not a good time."

Castiel raised his hands, eyes beginning to glow, and went straight toward the closest two. Their eyes burned out quickly, and his hands followed them for a moment as they fell to the ground.

Dean noticed another three people coming out of the doorway.

Castiel had his angel blade in his hand and was moving toward his next target when out of nowhere, he suddenly crumpled, bringing his hands, one still holding the handle of the blade, up to the sides of his head.

"Cas!" Dean ran to get between Castiel and the approaching angels, holding up his gun for a moment before making a move to take Castiel's blade.

Sam hurried forward, trying to get Castiel to stand up and move back the way they had come in, but as he did, the nearest angel grabbed Dean, throwing him to the ground while taking Castiel's blade, and knocking his gun from his hand.

Castiel's breathing was rough, and the occasional stifled roar of pain was escaping his lips. Within him, the strange grace lurched, swayed, and... stabbed at him? The second angel shoved Sam backward and dragged Castiel up by his neck.

Dean stood slowly.

"Again, Castiel?" the angel sneered. "You must have a thing for lost causes. That, or you're just against every other angel out there, no matter their intentions."

* * *

Melissa finally got herself calmed down, mostly by blocking her emotions and shutting down her thoughts, dried off and dressed, despite still being on the edge of panic. She had tried some oils and lotions, nothing had helped to remove the markings.

She paced around a bit, too anxious to sit. In her mind, there was only one person who had access to her body this way. Melissa couldn't fathom why he would do this, especially without her consent.

Emotions of rage, betrayal and fear welled up within her. She felt violated, and she wanted to throw up. Among it all, was a pulling feeling, she wanted him to explain himself, and she could very nearly feel where he was.

She found herself carrying her purse to the garage. Nothing was physically keeping her from leaving, unless that was the purpose of the new mark on her body.

She looked at her phone. A few hours ago, Castiel had sent her the message that they had reached St Louis.

If they had already been there for some time, perhaps the danger was past. Maybe the dissenters had been wiped out, maybe he and her brothers were already on the way back.

One thing was certain, she wasn't ready to speak to Castiel. She selected a different contact and pressed dial.

* * *

In a forgotten room on the other side of the factory, Sam stood, his arms stretched up to a chain above his head, nearly suspending him. Dean, having been a bit more difficult, was laying on the floor, hands and feet bound, bloodied, bruised, and not quite unconscious.

Castiel had been dragged off by the unknown angel, and Crowley was nowhere to be seen.

The door opened, and a girl was shoved inside. Her hands were tied in front of her, and she was a mess. Dried blood and fresh showed on her medium brown skin, and her thick dark hair was a long mess, wanting a brush.

After her came another, blonde, and clearly in charge.

Dean lifted his head, craning his neck to see who it was.

"You, again? Where's your little bitch with the holy water now, bucko?" the blonde laughed, and kicked him in the ribs.

Dean coughed out a long wheeze, "Charlotte, right? Love to find out, wouldn't you?"

She turned toward Sam. "How about you, big guy? Why are you here?"

Sam felt a slight buzzing in his back pocket. He was glad he'd silenced his phone, and that he'd been playing with the voice control features to kill time on the drive.

"I don't really know how you want me to _answer_ that." he said, hoping the one louder word would go unnoticed.

"So, what do you think will happen if you don't start talking, tell us where the kids are?" Charlotte asked.

"Well, you're probably going to kill me," Sam spoke loudly, "And my brother, and probably our friend, too. Not sure where Crowley ran off to, but he's not too likely to help."

"Oh, no. You see, I know a thing or two about you morons, you won't lift a finger to save yourselves. But her?" she pointed to the girl she'd brought in. "You'll tell me what I want to know."

Charlotte left, locking the door.

Sam waited until her footsteps could no longer be heard. He twisted slightly, trying to direct his voice toward his pocket. "Speaker on... Hello? You still there? Who's this?"

"It's Melissa. I heard it. What do I do?"

Sam shook his head. She needed to stay in the bunker, or this was going to fail. Not that it hadn't already. "Stay where you are, there's a black address book in my room, you need to get a hold of Garth. You can trust him, he'll get us out of this."

He looked to the girl Charlotte had locked in with them. "Can you get my phone? She'll need this address, and the GPS should still have our location."

The girl's eyes darted to Dean on the floor before she nodded and went behind Sam. She took the phone from his pocket gingerly, as though she didn't want to be near him.

Dean watched her, as she began to try to get their location into a text message, trying to place her face. She seemed familiar.

He realized what was different. "Lita?"

Her eyes meet his. It was certainly her. "I didn't recognize you without your, uh, well..."

Sam looked back and forth between Dean, and as close as he could manage for Lita's direction. She was standing behind him.

"My hijab?" she said, her voice raspy and harsh. Dean wondered what they'd been doing to her before they'd arrived to make her sound like that. "I wear it for modesty, could you please not look at me right now?"

Dean looked at the door. "No problem. Sorry to meet you again like this, but don't worry, we'll get you out of here."

Lita was still standing behind Sam, working on his phone, but he had stopped trying to see what she was doing. "I hope you plan to stop them from raising Michael and Lucifer first."

Dean glanced back to her out of habit before averting his eyes again. "What?"

"I've been locked up for days, they don't plan to let me live, so they haven't exactly worried about what I've heard."

Dean nodded. "Anything else that could help us?"

"Well, Charlotte knows that you know her to be a demon, but if you're a hunter, why didn't you spot it at the coffee shop? I knew almost right away."

Dean looked at Lita on instinct before remembering her request, and again averting his eyes. "How's that, exactly?"

"My family have been hunters for hundreds of years, but in a very different part of the world." Lita said, finishing the message.

Dean rolled into his back, and struggled to get his hands in front of him. "Agh!... I think they broke a couple ribs, Sammy."

"Then why are you moving? You're gonna puncture a lung."

Dean sat up and began working on his restraints. "Well, Lita, anyone likely to be coming looking for you? Or anyone you could call? Maybe get some back up?"

Lita shook her head. "My family disowned me when I decided to go to college out of state. Our Imam tried to make them see reason, but my father wouldn't have it."

Dean broke loose, and slowly stood. "Sorry."

He grabbed a large wooden crate from a corner of the room and pulled it over to Sam. Sam backed up as much as he could so Dean could get it in the right place, then stepped up onto it, taking a lock pick from Dean.

* * *

Melissa paced in the garage with her phone. She'd tried three different numbers listed for Garth, and left a message on each one. It had been an hour, and she was still a mess.

She considered her options carefully. If she left the bunker, she'd draw anything attempting to find her children to her, they would likely kill her, and then possibly have an easier time locating her kids. Her brothers had been captured, and needed help, but she had no way to get help to them, and would likely be in the way if she showed up.

If she -

"Such heavy shoulders, darling."

Melissa jumped, and spun around. "What do you want?"

Crowley pretended to be offended. "No one is ever happy to see me, why is that?"

He leaned on the side of Melissa's van. She shook her head and continued to pace, ignoring him and looking at her phone. "You were there. Sam mentioned you'd run off. Why are you here? I thought you didn't want to be displaced? You could be helping them."

Crowley shrugged, stepping away from the van, moving slowly. "It all comes down to wants and needs. Those dissenters _want_ to raise those two ungodly walking hemorrhoids, but I _need_ something entirely different."

"And Sam and Dean? What's stopping you from helping them?" she asked, refusing to back away as Crowley came closer.

"Leverage. I can get them out, but what will you give me in trade? I can't touch your soul."

Melissa stared at him for a moment. "You're putting yourself at risk to get to me?"

Crowley smiled slightly. "Marginally. But everyone takes risks, you risk your life every time you get on the highway, don't you? Life, so fleeting and fragile. And what happens to you when it's over?"

Melissa was angry and trying to hide it. "So I guess you know, then, huh? Yeah, I'll be stuck in here-" she tapped her head, "until my skin rots off, but it beats making deals with an asshole like you."

"We can bargain for something else." Crowley said as she turned away.

"Like what? Trade recipes? You need some help around the house?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I can make you very comfortable, give you anything you want, and when you die, have that pesky piece of flesh burned off immediately."

Melissa stayed quiet for a moment... "Leave."

"Very well, dear, but good luck staying alive." Crowley shrugged.

"Wait!" Melissa stopped him. "What does that mean? Can they get in here?"

"No. But it's obvious, I mean, you are a Winchester. What else can you do but go in, head first, guns blazing? Also, your purse, and the fact that you're standing in a garage do seem to give it away." Crowley patted the hood of her blue van. "Won't get far in this one, I'm afraid. But you'll sort it out, I'm sure."

Crowley disappeared, and she was alone again.

Melissa considered her options one more time... Knowing full well that torture, death, and worse were likely her fate, Melissa conceded the fight to her genetics and climbed into the van, slamming the door.


	24. Chapter 24

(A/N: If you're still reading this, you're either okay with bad stuff, or a glutton got punishment, so I'll just get to it. Thanks for reading!)

* * *

Castiel screamed as Sariel cut into him with the angel blade once again.

He was bound in a chair, hands cuffed to the back legs, bruising his shoulders against the wood every time he thrashed in pain.

"Where are the children, brother?"

Castiel left his head hanging back until Sariel came closer, and took the opportunity to slam his forehead into Sariel's nose. He heard bone crunch, followed by Enochian cursing as blood ran into his eyes.

"You've been among these primates for too long, Castiel, to take any amusement in this." Sariel hissed.

Castiel realized he was smirking at his brother's pain and straightened his expression.

"This will all end quickly if you surrender the vessels. We know you were with them."

Castiel glared. "I have nothing to say."

Sariel approached with the blade again.

* * *

Sam was working on the lock of the door when it opened suddenly. He was instantly thrown against a wall. Three beings walked in.

Dean stayed back, attempting to shelter Lita, but Charlotte's crony grabbed him, dragging him to the side as she came closer, grabbing Lita by the hair and dragging her out.

One of the goons pulled the lock pick out of the door before slamming it, leaving them alone again as the lock clicked into place.

After footsteps receded, Sam turned to Dean. "Did you hear that? While the door was open?"

Dean shook his head. "What?"

"The screaming. It was Cas."

"Are you sure?"

Sam nodded, "He's still alive."

Dean considered the door for a moment. "We need a plan. And we have to get Lita out of here."

* * *

Melissa pulled into a parking lot in Topeka.

She grabbed a protective charm and hex bag from where she'd stashed them, tossing them into her purse, and walked a few blocks down to the dealership.

An older man stood behind the counter. "Well, hello, darlin'. You looking for your dad?"

Melissa smiled, "No, I'm here to make a purchase."

"Okay, sweetheart, what are you looking to get? We have a full line of little pink accessories."

"I want the red one, with the travel kit." Melissa said firmly, and pointed to one of the motorcycles. "I also need a good helmet, a padded, ventilated jacket, and sturdy full-finger gloves, ladies' medium."

The older man scoffed a bit, "I suppose you're looking to do some serious riding, then, honey?"

"Very serious, yes. See, I left my bike in Texas, and I'm pissed off that I don't have time to go get it. So I'm getting another to keep at my brother's house, mostly because I can... And don't call me honey."

"All right, ma'am, in that case we'll be needing to run a credi-"

"No, I'm buying outright. I called my bank on the way over to let them know I'm making a large purchase out of state, there won't be an issue." She picked up a tiny gremlin bell from the stand next to the counter, and turned back to him with an overly pleasant smile. "Would you be so kind as to put this on the bike for me? Split rings tear up my nails."

* * *

Crowley gave the order to have Melissa followed, and if at all possible, protected, but Maggio hadn't expected her to move this fast.

He stirred the blood in the cup with his finger.

"Yes... no, she's left the van, she's using a red motorcycle, it was too fast for the car I took... She was going east, I lost her outside of Kansas City."

* * *

Melissa was glad she'd gotten a phone attachment for the helmet. She'd lost the green car several towns back, and was more focused now. She made a call, one she knew would break her heart.

"Hey guys. What's going on? Are you having fun?"

"No, you're not here yet." Dylan whined.

"I got on a horse today!" Johnny piped up

"Yeah, and you fell off."

"I did not!... Momma, when are you going to get here?"

Melissa cringed. "I'm not sure, sweety, but I'm trying. I'm going to do everything I can to get to you. I love you both so much, but I have to do something first. Just listen... I need you both to be good boys for your aunt and uncle, okay? No matter what. And find something nice to do for someone else every day, okay?"

"Okay, we will." Johnny said.

"Yeah, I'm going to give everyone I know pickled beets."

"That's gross."

"Guys... promise me?" Melissa asked, desperately trying to keep her voice from breaking. "And promise you'll look out for each other?"

"Promise!"

"I promise. With pickled beets."

"Okay, I have to go, but always remember I love you." Melissa hit the button to end the call immediately.

She allowed herself the tears, but the sobs would have to wait. She sped up.

* * *

Sariel pressed the tip into the cup of Castiel's ear, and sliced quickly toward the back of Castiel's head, leaving two flaps of bloody flesh.

Sariel began to drag the blade again, sideways like a razor. Castiel shuddered and screamed again.

"Brother, end this. Give up the vessels."

"No."

Sariel looked closer. "Castiel, your weakness is showing. Either you'll break or you'll be dead soon."

Castiel raised his head in confusion. He didn't feel any weaker than he had moments ago.

"Tears... so human." Sariel gloated. "But there's an idea, we can bleed your grace, and watch you die from your injuries."

Sariel sent another angel for a vial.

* * *

After several hours, the door opened again. Lita was pushed inside, this time falling to the floor.

The door closed again. Sam checked Lita's pulse, and scooped her up. Dean couldn't help but think how much she looked like a rag doll, unconscious in his brother's arms.

Sam took her from the door to the furthest spot of the room, setting her gently on some low boxes.

"She can't take much more, Dean. They'll kill her."

"We give them any information, apocalypse, she dies anyway, and so does everyone else." Dean said quietly, drowning in his ever-present guilt.

The door opened again and Charlotte stood in the doorway menacingly. "Who's next?"

Sam got up and went to the door quickly before Dean could stop him.

The door closed, locking behind Sam as Dean reached it. Dean could hear a struggle begin just outside the door. "Sam!"

Dean punched the door in frustration.

* * *

Crowley waited near the building, well aware that the grand Winchester plan was quickly being delivered to him in a hand basket.

The brave strong knights had been captured, the dragon fodder princess had left the safety of the castle, and the precious babes were in danger from every last bit of it.

It wouldn't be long before someone would be willing to make a deal.

Crowley heard and felt the deep rumble and turned around.

About a block and a half away, a red Harley Davidson pulled off into a side alley. He heard the engine stop, and his curiosity piqued.

A moment later he was watching, hidden. She held her athame delicately, kneeling on the pavement, and had lit three tea light candles in different colors.

Melissa dipped the tip of her sacred blade into a tiny bag, picking up salt on the end, stirring it into a small disposable plastic cup of water.

Crowley emerged from the shadows. "Saying your prayers, darling? I hate to interrupt."

Melissa looked up sharply. Her voice was a gentle plea, the sound roughened by hours of tears. "Please... don't break my circle."

Crowley held his hands up, palms toward her as he stepped back.

Melissa went back to her craft. "I..."

"Trouble finding a suitable rhyme?" She looked up at him again, obviously no longer able to cry. "Know any Christian prayers? Appropriation is fair game at this point, I think."

Melissa gave a nodding shrug, "What the hell...

 _Now I lay me down to sleep,_  
 _I pray the Lady, my soul to keep,_  
 _If I should die before I wake,_  
 _I pray the Lord and Lady,_  
 _My soul to take._ "

Her voice trembled and broke on the last word.

"Forgive me, but time matters." she whispered, tossing the cup of water over the candles, grabbing the bag of salt, and getting to her feet. She circled quickly, barely managing to recognize, much less thank the corners, and in a moment her salt and blade were stowed in the motorcycle, and she was pulling on her helmet.

Crowley was trying to take it all in. He didn't have much experience with Wiccans, not with his line of work.

She jumped hard on the ignition, bringing the bike roaring to life, helmet straps loose below her chin, and she was gone.

Crowley stepped closer to the ruins of the makeshift altar to get a better look. To his surprise he seemed to walk into an invisible wall. He looked around for a devil's trap, but there were none. He felt along the wall for a moment, and realized it was Melissa's circle. "Interesting..."


	25. Chapter 25

Sam was dragged into an empty office and thrown roughly against the desk. He righted himself just as two more, either angels or demons, he couldn't be certain, came in to restrain him.

Charlotte came in once he was sufficiently helpless.

"Okay. You want to tell me where those little brats are and get this over with?"

Sam looked her straight in the eyes. "Those little brats are my family, and if you want them, you'd better kill me first. You get anywhere near them, I'm going to come down on you so hard, even Lucifer himself will be telling me to calm down."

Charlotte nodded to another person in the room, who came forward with a taser, going straight to Sam's neck.

Sam shook and screamed as fire shot through him.

"Go on, big boy, tell me again how bad I'm going to get it." She backhanded Sam across the face.

Sam slowly raised his head, and started to laugh.

Charlotte looked rattled. "Out."

The other dissenters left the room closing the door.

"What is it? What do you want?" Charlotte asked, her voice different.

"Nothing from you, creep." Sam said.

"Is that right?" Charlotte pulled out a small knife. "We've all heard of your little addiction. What would it take, exactly? One hit? Two? Then leave you hanging for a couple of days, just until you're desperate?"

Sam shook his head hard. "You don't want to do that."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I do. Hand feed you, make you my little lap dog..." Charlotte cut into her palm, and put it over Sam's mouth. "C'mon, how hard is it, really?"

Sam kept his lips clamped shut. He was not about to go through this again. The smell of her blood was certainly making it difficult.

After a few moments, she spoke again, calling out to one of the henchmen outside the door. "Get his mouth open. I don't care if you break his jaw to do it."

Sam shook his head, "No, don't do this!"

Somewhere nearby, there was a deafening explosion.

* * *

Castiel came to on the floor. The faintest trace of grace was left in his body, and it was fading.

The volatile grace must have overwhelmed the vial, and blown Sariel and his blade back, throwing Castiel, his wound still open, to the floor, breaking the chair at the same time.

He stood, shaken, and reached for Sariel's blade, realizing as he did, the other angel was dead. Traces of grace were everywhere.

Castiel knew he didn't have much time left. He moved quickly to the door downstairs where he'd last seem them throw Lita through the door.

He barely managed the lock, slipping to his knees as it swung open.

"Cas!" Dean ran forward. "What was that, what happened?"

"I can't... my grace..." Dean saw the open wound on Castiel's neck as he crumpled to the floor.

"Where's Sam? Cas?" he tried checking for a pulse, but found none.

Dean dragged Castiel's body further into the room.

He stepped over the angel, and went slowly, listening for any sign of his brother.

One of the large bay doors on the side of the building was wide open. He couldn't be certain who was angel or demon, but several people ran scurrying trying to sort out the source of the explosion. About four of them stood around the bay door.

He headed for a nearby set of stairs, listening intently, but soon, all he could hear was a growing roar. He was half way up the stairs when he caught sight of a large red motorcycle coming through the bay door.

The rider took off their helmet and swung it hard at the head of the closest person, knocking them back. Dean noted the hair. But it couldn't be.

She lay the bike down, sliding wheels first into two more dissenters, pinning them to a wall.

Dean stopped in his tracks as she got up safely from the floor. "Melissa?"

Melissa unzipped her jacket half way, pulling out a rather large barreled revolver, and tearing open the trunk of the motorcycle's touring pack. She grabbed a bag, and ran toward him, tossing the bag to him.

"Where are they?" She asked loudly.

"Who?"

"Sam and Castiel."

"I'm looking for Sam, Cas is... he's in that room. I don't think he's alive."

Melissa looked up at him, her face a mix of emotions. She threw the gun to him and took off running.

Dean ran after her, unsure of what to do next.

Melissa stopped in the doorway. Dean came up right behind her as she looked down at Castiel's lifeless form.

"I might be able to get him back." she said, turning around. "You have to help me."

"Whatever you need." Dean replied.

"It might kill me, Dean." She said, turning to look at him. "In fact, it probably will. Swear to me you'll stay the hell away from my kids unless their lives are in danger."

Dean shook his head, "Okay, I swear. Anything."

"Sit him up."

Dean moved around to pull Castiel's body into a sitting position as Melissa threw off the jacket she wore.

She stood over Castiel's legs and dropped to her knees. "When this is over... don't let me rot, okay? Get me out fast?"

Dean nodded. "As fast as possible."

Her eyes closed, her breath steadied, and she slipped into an unresponsive state. She was vaguely aware of Dean asking her a question, but she was sinking into the darkest recesses of her mind. The colors, the power, flowing through her body... and it began to burn.

A thought floated through her mind, wondering what cremation felt like. She let it go.

Her thoughts settled on an old hymn, and she wondered which hymn she'd been singing in her sleep the morning she woke to find Castiel holding her.

Her throat chakra pulsed and nearly convulsed in painful burning waves. She felt a disconnect between where she existed in her trance, and her physical body, but she was able to reach Castiel's face, part his lips, and bring his mouth closer to her throat.

* * *

Dean held Castiel as upright as he could manage, thoughts still on Sam.

He wasn't sure what was happening, and a twinge of a feeling of inappropriateness went through him as Melissa pulled Castiel closer, but he wasn't sure how any of this worked.

Thin strands of white light seeped from the front of Melissa's neck and worked their way into Castiel's mouth. Dean couldn't help staring. Melissa began to sway, and fell over, a glow still present in her throat.

"Cas?... Buddy, please, please wake up. We need your help." Dean pleaded. He slowly lowered Castiel's body back to the floor, noting the wound in his throat as it seemed to close on it's own. "Cas...?"

Nothing. Dean slammed his fist down on his friend's chest. "Dammit, Cas! Wake up!"

Castiel sat bolt upright. He pulled Melissa to him, going straight for her throat, pulling the rest of the grace from her throat.

Dean went back to Lita, checking on the still unconscious girl, half because he wasn't sure if his sister was dead, or what Castiel was doing.

Castiel closed his mouth on Melissa's throat, as he reached up to her forehead with one hand, healing her. She came around in his arms, grace completely tapped, and immediately shoved him away.

Castiel looked hurt, but Melissa grabbed her padded jacket and headed back to the door, slowly and in obvious pain, shrugging into it as she peeked out, looking at where the angels and demons were headed.

Castiel got to his feet, spotted Dean, and motioned for him to follow, and bring Lita. He walked out the door, following Melissa. Dean gathered Lita up, and brought up the rear.

"I think Sam is on the second floor. I'll get him." Castiel said quietly.

"Where's my gun?" Melissa asked, turning to Dean.

He indicated his jacket pocket, and she fished it out. "What is that, anyway?"

"A judge," she muttered. "Fires shotgun rounds, does a lot of damage."

"How did you get one so fast?" Dean asked as they headed for the door.

"I know who to bribe."

Dean could have sworn it was going to be a straight shot to the car, but as they got to the now unguarded bay door, Crowley came around the corner.

Dean stopped abruptly. Melissa bumped into him.

Charlotte came out of an upstairs doorway, hands bloody, eyes burnt out, stumbling over the railing and landing hard. Castiel emerged a moment later, Sam leaning on him heavily.

Dean turned back to Crowley. "Looks like you get to keep your throne another day.

Castiel and Sam came closer, slowly, Melissa still watching for any danger approaching them.

Crowley began to smirk. "They aren't done with you, darling."

Dean stepped next to Melissa, in an attempt to remind her she wasn't alone.

"They will continue to track you, and your sweet little children to the ends of the earth. But I can make that all go away." Crowley purred.

"Don't." Dean said, still facing Crowley, but quiet enough only Melissa could hear him. "Don't listen to him."

Far away, sirens could be heard. Likely due to the large explosion that had rattled the place.

"What do you want from me?" Melissa asked.

Crowley nodded toward the unconscious college girl in Dean's arms. "Kill her."

"Why? You could just do that yourself." Dean argued.

Castiel let go of Sam, leaving him standing as he quickly came up behind them.

"I could." Crowley answered. "But I want her to do it. One quick, painless pull of the trigger, and the danger to yourself, the children, and the whole world, all of it, it goes away."

"Melissa, drop the gun, right now." Dean whispered. He didn't hear the clatter he'd expected. The sirens were growing louder.

Dean turned to Melissa to tell her once again to drop the gun, just in time to see her face as Castiel's arm appeared in front of her shoulders and his blade emerged tip first from her chest.

Dean started, not fully understanding what he was seeing. He could hear Sam screaming at Castiel, but he couldn't make out the words.

The sirens had stopped at the other side of the building.

"We have go. Now." Castiel said, retrieving his blade, lowering Melissa to the floor.

Dean was about to protest leaving his sister, but Sam and Castiel were rushing him past the place where Crowley no longer stood.


	26. Chapter 26

Castiel slid into the back seat on the passenger side and helped pull Lita toward him to get her into the Impala.

Sam turned around in the front seat and passed him a long thin purple scarf. "Pretty sure this is hers."

Dean hurried to start the engine and pull away.

* * *

Sam managed to get them a room at the back of the hotel, away from the main road. Dean was able to carry Lita in without arousing suspicion, and put her on one of the beds.

He immediately spun around, grabbing Castiel by the arm and dragged him back out of the room.

Sam sat down at the small table as the door closed, burying his head in his hands, trying to keep it together.

* * *

"She's dead, isn't she? You killed her."

"I had no choice, Dean."

"There is always a choice! And you know exactly what's happening to her right now, she's stuck in there. You didn't even bring her body so we could get her out! She's stuck in a dead body, Cas! How could you do that to her?"

Castiel shook slightly. "I can feel what's happening to her Dean, believe me, I know. But because her soul hadn't left her body, we may be able to get her back."

"What?"

"There's a chance. But we have to contact her family."

Dean turned around and went back into the room. "Call Chase Faulkner, tell him what happened, have him call the morgue, tell them we're coming."

Sam scrubbed at his wet face and looked up. "Yeah, okay."

Castiel stood near the door awkwardly.

Sam pulled out his phone, but as he did, it began to ring. "Leann?"

Sam stood up and went to the TV. "I'll am so sorry, I was about to call... Yeah, I'll wait."

Dean looked at the TV. Sam had muted it so it wouldn't wake Lita, but a ticker at the bottom read '... Faulkner Corporation founding family member, philanthropist Melissa Faulkner found dead. Police suspect ...' There was also a helicopter shot of the warehouse.

Dean looked closely at an open bay door and spotted a large red stain on the concrete, immediately wishing he hadn't looked.

He turned to look at Castiel, and found the door closing. He didn't particularly want to see him right now, and decided to let him go.

Dean was finding the pain in his ribs less bearable and stretched out on the empty bed.

Sam was speaking on the phone again. "I know, this is awful, and there's a problem. She's stuck inside her body, she's going to have to be cremated... Well, it's either that, or she's going to stay in there until the marks on her back deteriorate, and we don't know how long that would take, but embalming would make it take even longer... I am so sorry. Believe me, we didn't want her there in the first place, she wasn't supposed to leave Kansas... A motorcycle? Are you sure?... I understand..."

* * *

About an hour later, Castiel slipped into the room, carrying a plastic bag and a paper bag, with three large cups in a drink carrier.

Sam was sitting on the couch, face in his hands again. He looked up at Castiel, but his expression was mostly blank.

Castiel set the drink carrier and bags on the small table. "I'm very sorry, Sam."

Sam didn't trust his voice, simply nodded.

"Lita is in very bad shape, she hasn't eaten in days. We need to try to wake her."

"Why can't you just heal her?" Sam asked blankly.

"I'm going to try to heal Melissa, so I'm reserving as much of my energy as possible. The next Lamed Vavnik has to have been born by now, it's been two and a half hours, so she may come back as a normal human, and that would mean she wouldn't be able to supply me with new grace."

Sam nodded, and stood. He shook Dean's boot gently. "Hey, wake up. Cas is back."

"Also," Castiel said quietly, "Crowley is in the parking lot. He wants to speak with Dean."

"He can wait." Dean said, yawning.

Sam moved to the other bed. "Lita? Can you hear me? I know you're tired, but you need to wake up and eat."

Sam considered shaking her by the shoulder, but instead took her forearm. "Hey. Time to wake up."

Lita startled, and sat up immediately, looking around, shaking. Her hand went to her head, surprised to find her hijab in place.

"It's okay, it's okay, we got you out. You're safe now. This is Cas. He brought us some dinner."

Dean stood up slowly and fetched a cheeseburger from the paper sack.

Castiel stepped forward with a box and one of the large cups. "Vegetarian and halal."

"You aren't human." Lita said, taking the box and cup.

"No, he's not," Sam replied, "But he's not with those other creeps."

"Yeah, he wouldn't just hurt some defenseless young lady." Dean said, dropping the burger back into the bag, and storming out of the room.

"Look, I know you said you were disowned, but maybe you should call your family, or if you have some close friends, let them know you're okay, we'll get you back to wherever you need to go." Sam said, putting his phone down on the bed next to her, starting to go after Dean. "I'll be right back."

Castiel gave her a small, sad but encouraging smile, and followed after the brothers.

* * *

Melissa felt the warm arm, now familiar around her body, and the contrasting cold of the blade as it pierced her.

She saw the shocked look on Dean's face as looked at the person standing just behind her.

She wasn't sure what was happening. Her body jerked as the blade retreated. She went limp and sank to the floor.

Castiel's hands let her go. She was on the hard cold concrete floor of the factory. Her blood was running out of her, pooling around her, soaking her jacket and hair.

She stared at the ceiling far above her. She couldn't move her eyes. She couldn't blink. She wasn't breathing.

Everything went dark. Everything went silent.

In her mind, she began to scream.

* * *

Dean went straight for his car, but found Crowley standing in the way of the driver door. "Your little feathered friend has ruined my fun, Dean."

Dean looked as though he could shred Crowley's flesh from his bones with his bare hands. "And just who drove him to it, exactly?"

Crowley smirked. Dean continued. "This, all of this, it's your fault. Our sister is dead, worse than dead, and it is your fault! You could have sent plenty of demons in to take out the competition, and you didn't. You got her killed."

Castiel came to stand next to Dean.

"If it's any consolation to you, I've lost all interest in her. Although, she was such a pretty sight on her knees. Glad I got to see that before her untimely demise."

Crowley was about to say more, but Castiel's fist slammed into his face at an inhuman speed, throwing him back against the door of the Impala, shattering the window, denting the roof and the door, and sending the driver's side mirror skittering across the parking lot. Castiel grabbed his suit and threw him to the ground.

"Cas!" Sam yelled.

"What?" Castiel and Dean asked gruffly at the same time. Dean continued, "He's got it coming."

"Yeah, but... the car?" Sam gestured.

Dean shrugged.

Castiel kicked Crowley hard in the ribs, bones cracking, knocking him over. Suddenly Crowley was gone.

Castiel looked around, as though searching for another target, but Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "C'mon... we have to figure out how to get her back, or get her out."

* * *

Dean finally relented to Sam's pleas, and begrudgingly ate most of his now cold burger. Lita was looking better, health wise, and Castiel was still something of a mess.

Sam had stopped by a funeral home shortly before dawn and 'borrowed' one of the herses.

Chase had sent orders for a few new I.D. cards to be printed at one of the small satellite locations of the corporation nearby.

"Okay, Cas, you know what to say?" Dean asked, straightening his tie.

"Yes, I'm an employee of the mortuary. I will be transporting the remains of the deceased, and preparing her for cremation, in keeping with her family's religious beliefs." Castiel deadpanned.

"Okay." Dean handed him the keys to the herse. "You know, you're a little too good at that."

Castiel tilted his head, about to ask a question, but Dean waved him off. "Nevermind."

Sam came away from the sink, just outside the bathroom door, having sorted out his hair. "Lita, are you sure you're up to helping with this? It's okay if you want to stay here."

"No, I want to help. I can do this." She said.

Sam nodded. "Okay."

Dean passed her an I.D. badge. Lita clipped it to the blazer she had gotten along with a new change of clothes from the thrift store across the street from the hotel. "Do I look professional enough?"

"Absolutely, gorgeous." Dean said, and headed for the door. Sam gave his back a questioning look, before shaking his head and following.

* * *

They arrived at the city morgue just minutes after it opened.

Sam, Dean and Lita went in first, Castiel having been arranged to wait a few minutes...

Dean went up to a desk, "Excuse me. You should have received a call from Chase Faulkner, we're here to identify his sister, Melissa, and handle the arrangements."

The woman at the desk asked for identification, and seemed satisfied with the cards she was shown, and asked them to take a seat as she went through a set of doors.

A short time later, just as Castiel had joined them and Sam made a show of shaking Castiel's hand, and and older man, one of the morticians, came out to lead them inside. Dean motioned for Castiel accompany them, but as planned, he stood further back.

"We haven't done her autopsy yet, just drew some blood for a quick drug test last night. We were about to get to that." he opened a door and pulled out a sliding gurney, before unzipping the thin white plastic.

Dean flinched as though he'd been hit, and pressed his fist to his mouth. Lita nodded, tearing up a bit. "That's her."

Sam tried his best to keep his business face on, in keeping with the plan. "Of course in keeping with her family's religious beliefs, cremation much take place before twenty four hours have past, the sooner the better. We've got a representative from the funeral home here already."

The mortician cocked an eyebrow as Dean and Lita started walking closer to his office, forcing him to follow. "Just what religion is that?"

Dean looked flustered.

Lita spoke up, walking a little faster. "That information is confidential, and not required, unless you'd like to be in violation of the United States Constitution, and have Chase Faulkner contact civil rights attorneys."

"Ma'am, we have an open investigation, here. I can't just release the body." He replied.

"Then I suggest we get started on paperwork, and quickly." Lita said, pulling a pen from her purse.

* * *

Sam stood out out sight, listening carefully. He came back to where Castiel had moved to stand next to Melissa, traces of emotion on his face.

"They aren't going for it. Get her out of here, I'll tell them it was a mix up." Sam said. He checked on the receptionist, who had thankfully left her desk, allowing Castiel to slip out with Melissa in on a stretcher.

Sam held the door open, and helped Castiel get her into the herse taking the stretcher back inside and stowing it in the same place. He took his phone out and called Chase, just as the mortician came back into the room, with Lita dogging his heels.

"Young lady, I have a report to write, and I haven't even started the procedure. Now I can try, but I can't suppose I'll be done by this afternoon." He stopped dead in his tracks. "Where's the body?"

Sam held up one finger. "Yes sir. Yes, I understand..." he switched to a whisper, "Funeral director," he jerked his thumb to the door, before speaking more formally, "Yes, as soon as possible."

"I cannot believe this." the mortician shook his head.

Dean looked around, trying to seem confused. "He was just here a minute ago."

The older man hurried down the hallway. Sam followed after him. The herse was gone.

Sam offered him the phone. "Her brother is on the line if you'd like discuss this now?"

He took the phone from Sam. "Hello? I'm terribly sorry for your family's loss, sir, but the police... yes... do you happen to have the contact information for the funeral home?"


	27. Chapter 27

_Everything, every sense she had, was shut off._

 _She was trapped, a prisoner in her own mind._

 _She had no idea how long it had been, minutes or millenia._

 _She had no idea when it would end._

 _Everything was dark._

 _Everything was cold._

 _Everything was silent, except for the sound of her own screams._

 _And worst of all... she was alone_.

* * *

Finally having untangled himself from the situation, leaving Sam and Lita, who for all intents and purposes were legitimate representatives of the Faulkner Corporation, to deal with the police, Dean raced back to the hotel.

He flung open the door, and stopped in his tracks, unsure what he'd find.

Melissa was laying on one of the beds, still in the body bag. Castiel, probably not expecting anyone back so soon, had unzipped it almost to her navel. Her wound where Castiel's blade had exited her lower chest was clearly visible, the skin torn open in a triangular pattern, and slightly singed. The two sides of the body bag covered her shoulders and breasts, framing her face. Her skin appeared a blueish gray, and like her limp hair, damp from condensation.

Castiel held a large brass bowl. Smoke rose from the center. "I'm almost done, I'll be ready to attempt it shortly."

Dean looked at his friend. Castiel's face was pained, and not just from grief. "What's happening to you, Cas?"

"She's been screaming all night, and she's getting louder." Castiel said, shaking his head as if it would bring him rest.

"If she can't get out, could she be turning vengeful? Like a ghost going bad in there?" Dean asked, looking back to her.

"I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen..." Castiel looked directly at him. "Dean if I can't get her back, or if she's not herself..."

Dean cut him off. "You're wasting time, Cas. If you can't, I will. I swear. Now, please..." he gestured helplessly to the lifeless form on the bed.

For a moment the thought ran through Dean's mind of slicing off the flesh that held the designs on her back, wounds his father, no, their father, had inflicted years ago. Of burning the flesh as fast as possible. He wondered if she would feel it. The thoughts sickened him.

Castiel dipped his hand into the bowl, scooping out whatever half burnt ingredients were still smoldering. Quickly he pressed the entire handful into her gaping wound, his hand glowing. He dropped the bowl, not caring where it rolled off to, bringing his other hand to the wound, doing the same as the first, pressing down hard. Dean thought he heard Cas speaking in some language he didn't recognize, but he couldn't be sure.

The light intensified, Dean almost covered his eyes, but suddenly Castiel was flung back from Melissa, who was loudly sputtering, coughing, and choking on new air. Castiel stayed where he was on the floor as Dean went straight to Melissa.

"Hey? You're okay, you're back. We've got you." He said, pulling her into an embrace as her struggle to breathe turned into loud, broken sobs that shook her whole body.

Dean rocked her slightly, trying to calm her, but it didn't seem to help. It did occur to him, however, that she was still in the body bag. He looked over to Castiel, on the floor, who although unconscious, didn't appear to have been harmed.

* * *

Sam, fairly exhausted, had gotten a taxi back to the hotel. He opened the door for Lita, and they both stepped inside. He was bracing himself the entire ride back, even after Dean's two word text message confirming their sister was alive once more.

He wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but certainly not what he found.

Castiel was unconscious on the floor. Dean was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, holding Melissa, who was crying, and still, apart from the body bag, naked.

"Sam, could you, uh..."

"Clothes?" He gestured to Melissa.

"Yeah."

Sam nodded, opening up his duffel bag. He took out the longest shirt he had with him and turned around, surprised to have Lita take it from his hand.

"Go to the thrift store, get a medium sized sundress and flip flops. Nothing yellow or green."

Sam shook his head. "What?"

"Fashion is a hobby of mine, and I can tell you she's about a size 8 or 10, a medium should fit fine, and sundresses usually have a built in bra or are designed so you won't have to worry about that. Oh, and they had some cheap hairbrushes and elastics at the register, get those too."

Sam nodded and headed out the door.

Lita moved to the bed, slowly unwrapping one of Melissa's arms to put through the sleeve. "Melissa, can you hear me?"

Melissa didn't answer.

"I'm not sure she's fully conscious." Lita said, this time to Dean.

"Yeah, well, she won't let go, either."

Lita pointed to the far wall, "Eyes over there."

Dean turned his entire head just to be on the safe side, doing his best to keep his arms out of Lita's way.

"Can you lift her a bit?" Lita asked.

Dean shifted his weight, taking a good portion of Melissa's with him. He heard a rustling plastic noise and felt the blankets move.

"Done." Lita said, turning to check on Castiel.

Lita had the shirt fastened and Melissa was covered with the bedding from the waist down, the body bag was gone.

"Thanks for that. We didn't grow up with her, you know, so, this is really weird for us." Dean admitted quietly.

"I only met her once before, but I recognized her in the morgue. The meetings I was attending at her church, well, one time the person facilitating had to cancel last minute, and she came and let us in. She had no idea how the group ran, but she stayed. Mattie, my roommate who went missing, she was having a really hard time that week, and Melissa was kind to her... I'm glad you have her back." Lita said.

Dean nodded absently. In the back of his mind he wondered. Melissa hadn't completely come out of whatever this was. She hadn't said a word. He wanted to think they had her back, but he couldn't tell. And even as he sat holding her, he thought about his promise to Castiel.

* * *

Sam came in carrying a bag, passing Lita as she went out, carrying a towel from the bathroom.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean after the door closed.

"Prayer time." Dean said, making use of the remote that had found it's way to his free hand. He had managed at some point to get out of his jacket and tie, but he hadn't gotten far. His other arm was still occupied. "Maybe we should try to wake up Cas."

Sam set the bag from the thrift store down on the end of the bed, and leaned over Castiel, patting his cheek roughly and shaking his shoulder. "Hey, Cas. Wake up. C'mon."

Castiel's eyes popped open as his fist shot upward, catching Sam in the chin, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to cause him to fall backward to sit hard on the floor.

"Sam... I'm sorry." Castiel said, shaking from a lack of energy as he tried to get up.

"Don't worry about it. I've got to get rid of the herse and do something, well, horrible. I'll get some food while I'm out. Do you need to eat?"

Castiel nodded. Sam stood up and hefted the angel into a chair before collecting the body bag and leaving again.

Dean got his usual creepy feeling that happened whenever Castiel was watching him a little too closely. He muted the television, and looked over at him. His voice was dark, a tone Castiel recognized too well. "She hasn't said anything, Cas. She cried a lot, and fell asleep, but I really can't tell if she's in there."

Castiel nodded. "Did Lita go with Sam?"

"No, she's getting her Mecca on. She'll be back in a minute." Dean said.

Castiel continued to watch Melissa with an odd disconnect. "Something is different, Dean."

Dean looked concerned. "Different, how? And be very specific."

"Something was different when she got to the factory building. Something is very off. Are the marks on her back still the same?"

"I didn't check." Dean replied.

Castiel got to his feet carefully, stumbling slightly as he went, bending over the edge of the bed. He lifted the back of Sam's shirt, examining her scars carefully, looking for the tiniest detail that might be out of place.

* * *

Sam ditched the herse about two blocks from where he'd first found it, leaving the door wide open, keys on the ground nearby.

He got out of the taxi at the city morgue, went in carrying a large canvas bag, and asked to speak with the same mortician as earlier that morning.

The older man was irritated no end. "Back again, I see. What do you want?"

"I'm very sorry to bother you again, but we are trying to cooperate." Sam took the body bag out of the large canvas bag, passing it to him, and adding Melissa's toe tag on top of the plastic material.

"Can you confirm that these are the correct items that were taken from here with the deceased?" Sam asked.

"Certainly looks like it. Where's the rest of her?"

Sam withdrew a brand new urn from the bag, beautifully engraved with Melissa's full name, birth and death dates, exactly as Chase had ordered from a completely different funeral home in the town. Sam opened the top. "I am terribly sorry about this. The employee who took her out of here has been fired, and the mortuary will be requiring a more stringent training of all employees in the future."

* * *

Sam took a deep breath as he left the morgue. The old man had been thoroughly enraged, and the police had been involved... again. Thankfully they bought the story that it was an unfortunate mix up.

Sam waited on the curb for yet another taxi, thankful for the credit card Melissa had given him for her children's needs, and that he'd forgotten to give it back to her.

He took the urn out of the bag again, taking a long, guilty look at it. "Sorry about this, whole thing. Really... please, don't haunt me."

* * *

Melissa started to become aware of something other than the sudden ability to rest. Every bit of her existence had been exhausted, and she had caved to it, desperately clinging to whatever it was she could feel, with it registering somewhere in the back of her mind that it was a person with a familiar scent, and that she would be safe as long as she wasn't alone.

She felt cold, but she was getting warmer. She felt stiff, but her muscles were loosening. She felt heavily sedated, but she was coming out of it.

She felt something moving across the skin on her back.

Her eyes snapped open, and she flung her arm back, in the direction of the perceived danger. "Stop cutting me!"

She shook and pulled herself to a sitting position, groggily trying to hug her knees.

"Nobody is cutting you." Dean said, attempting a soothing tone. "You're safe."

Castiel had jumped back, coming to rest on the opposite bed.

Dean considered trying to put an arm around Melissa again, but he had just gotten his arm back. "Are you thirsty? That's the first thing I want every time I get raised from the dead."

Melissa stared at him blankly. "What?"

Dean shrugged, "Nevermind. Are you hungry? Is there anything you want?"

Melissa teared up. "I died?"

Dean nodded. "You were dead for about eleven hours."

"Oh, god..." Melissa choked out. "It was awful..."

"It's over now."

Her voice was a rough, shattered whisper. "They're going to find my kids!"

"No, no, we got them. No one is after your kids now." Dean squeezed her shoulder.

Lita slipped into the room, leaving the towel on a chair.

"Melissa..." Castiel said quietly.

Melissa turned to look at him. "Stay away from me."

Castiel looked as though he wanted to speak, but he simply nodded and went back to his chair.


	28. Chapter 28

Sam came in quietly, expecting Melissa to be sleeping.

Castiel was sitting in the same chair he was in when Sam had left, Dean had changed into street clothes, the shower was running, and Melissa and Lita were nowhere to be seen.

"Is she awake?" Sam asked, setting the canvas bag down on the table.

"Yeah, Lita's helping her." Dean gestured toward the bathroom.

Sam wasn't sure, but something was off.

"I called a delivery place, hope Chinese is okay." Castiel looked like he was about to speak up, "Vegetarian and halal for Lita. I checked."

Castiel nodded, and went back to looking like a kicked puppy.

"Wait a minute." Sam muttered, "Cas, I thought you and Melissa were... um... y'know, close?"

Castiel looked up.

Sam wasn't sure how to continue, and glanced over at Dean, "I just thought, I guess, if you two were, uh... 'involved,' that you'd be in there helping her?"

Castiel looked crushed. "I killed her, Sam. I put a blade into her back, which was already a trauma for her, and I ended her life, trapping her in her own body. Her mind was screaming the entire time. I'm sure whatever connection there was has been severed."

"Cas, you didn't have a choice." Dean said, trying to reassure his friend. "Crowley played the mom card. He used her babies to get her to consider killing Lita to get the whole thing over. He even promised it would save the world. It's not right, but it is tempting. She couldn't help it and neither could you. Give her some time."

Castiel shook his head, standing, heading towards the door. "I should go."

Sam stepped into his way. "You can't, Cas. You're in no shape to go anywhere. Sit down."

The water turned off with a squeak.

Castiel looked to the far wall, then back to Sam with a pleading look in his eyes.

Dean stood up quickly, grabbing his green jacket. "C'mon, Cas. Let's go for a drive."

Sam stepped out of the way, allowing Castiel through the door. Dean walked past next, giving Sam a shrug. "Don't eat my fortune cookie."

Sam watched the door close.

* * *

Dean left the gas pump running and went to lean down to the window.

"So... how long do you plan to run from your zombie girlfriend?"

Castiel looked at the details in the leather of the dashboard. "I don't know."

"What if this is temporary? What if, after she gets past it, she wants to keep you around?"

"I would stay with her, of course."

Dean nodded. "And if she doesn't, but she's still her, then what happens?"

"I'm not sure."

Dean nodded again, and went to hang up the nozzle. He grabbed his receipt, a useless habit from his dad, he realized, and got back behind the wheel. He was about to start the car, but decided against it, turning to address Castiel directly.

"You know, Cas, I will never admit it in public, but the truth is, the minute I told Sam about you and Melissa, he pointed out that you were the best person she could be with. And I knew he was right. He said you would treat her right, like the saint she is, and hell, aside from killing her... okay, that came out wrong. My point is, there is nobody else on earth that's going to treat her better than you will, because you know what she is, and what that means."

"I'm not sure she's a saint anymore, Dean."

"Cas, I know you. You can't tell me that changes anything for you. You still care about her, just the same as you did before."

Castiel nodded.

Dean started the engine. "I was a little bitchy when you brought me back to life. Shot you, stabbed you with a knife I thought could kill anything. Like I said earlier, just give her some time. And if I can help get you two back together, I'm damn sure gonna try."

Dean pulled out onto the road, continuing to ramble, trying to help lighten Castiel's mood.

"Hey, maybe someday I'll have a little niece or nephew running around, helping people, healing them..." he tapped two fingers against the steering wheel, referencing the action he'd seen Castiel do many times. "Of course you can name the kid after me. Or Sam, if it's a girl."

* * *

Sam looked up when the bathroom door opened. Lita motioned for him to come closer, and he got up.

"She's decent, but she's not moving very well." Lita stepped out of the tiny bathroom, making room for Sam's large frame.

Sam scooped Melissa up, and maneuvered out through the miniscule doorway. He had meant to take her to the table, but she seemed to be falling asleep again. He put her on the bed, taking care to make sure her skirt was down.

"There's some lunch, I set yours aside. Cas and Dean left for a bit, so no reason to wait... She looks a lot better than she did at the morgue this morning. Did she say anything?"

Lita shook her head. "She tried to scrub off her tattoo. I thought she was going to draw blood."

"That sounds odd... but I didn't know she had a tattoo." Sam mused.

Lita picked up the towel she'd left on the chair. "I'll be back."

"Again?" Sam asked as she headed out the door.

"I've got some catching up to do, and plenty to pray about."

Sam pushed Melissa's hair back from her face. Lita must have dried it for her. Her color was coming back, and she certainly looked more alive now, but he wasn't sure he'd ever shake the image he'd seen when the mortician had first opened her body bag.

 _Hazards of being a part of this family._.. he thought.

* * *

Lita stood up for the last time and picked up the towel as she heard the sound of the black classic Chevy roar into the parking lot.

She went straight toward the car, Dean didn't notice her, and Castiel was holding back. She had hoped to catch him alone, and this seemed like the perfect time.

"Do you have a moment?" Lita spoke up.

Dean was already half way to the door and didn't hear her, as she intended. Castiel turned around.

"Why would you mark her like that? After her father put all of those scars on her back?"

Castiel looked concerned. "What do you mean?"

"The design on her breast, the black lines. She said it had to be you. How could you betray her trust that way?"

Castiel looked at the door, and then back to Lita. "I have never left a mark on her that she couldn't remove, and only while she was aware of it. Whatever mark she has was not my doing. Can you draw it?"

Lita shook her head. "No. But I can tell you it's Sumerian in origin, and if I remember the online class correctly, it has at least three meanings in it. One was 'sacred,' or 'holy,' and one looked like 'bound.'"

Lita shifted her weight, Castiel's nervous energy making her a bit concerned. "I didn't tell her brother, but only because I know what you are, and thought maybe you had some reason for it. But if you didn't do this, then she needs your help."

Lita walked to the door as Castiel put his hand on the roof of the car, trying to process what he'd just learned.

* * *

"Hey." Dean said off handedly as he came through the door. He spotted Melissa on the bed. "Well, she's looking better. She'll be running folks down on her bike again in no time."

Dean sat down at the table with Sam, reaching for a take out box.

"Not that one, that's for Lita." Sam said, sliding him a different one.

"Whoops." Dean said, picking up the other box.

"Dean, we have a problem. Her death was all over the national news. Her brother, Chase-"

"Other brother," Dean commented.

"He knows we got her back, hell, he helped as much as he could, but fact is, to everyone else, she's dead." Sam shot a guilty look at the bed, and continued in a quieter voice. "There's no way she can just go home after this... She might not be dead, but the life she had is over."

Dean took a large bite as the door opened quietly, and Lita set the towel down by the door. Dean stood immediately to vacate one of the two chairs, his mouth full of food, waving her to the table as he moved to the couch.

Sam gave him the tiniest confused bitchface, and rolled his eyes before turning to Lita. "I had a long talk with Chase Faulkner while you were helping Melissa. He'd like to pay off any student loans you might have, and he'd like to know what field you're looking to get into in case you'd be interested in a position in the corporation."

Dean swallowed as Lita opened her container. "That's a nice deal."

"That's very generous. But I'm not going into any field he'd be aware of."

"How's that?" Dean asked. "I mean, if you want to say."

"I'm not studying for a specific degree. I'm learning what I can, switching my major and minors to get the classes I need. When I'm done, I'm going to move to Spain. My cousins have a hunter's network there, it's global, and I'll be working research and taking phone calls from people looking to verify hunters false identities. I'll be safe, and helping them stay alive."

Dean blinked, seemingly forgetting his food. "That's a thing? That would be like, what," he looked to Sam, "a hundred Bobbys? That's awesome."

Sam was also impressed. "I thought you were disowned?"

"By my immediate family. They don't want me to have anything to do with hunting. But my cousins think I'd be a big help." Lita explained.

"Okay, so we need to get you back to Texas pretty soon." Dean said. Lita nodded as she ate. He continued, "Hate to see you go, but I can get behind that cause."

Dean finished his food and looked around. "Where's Cas? I thought he needed to eat?"

Sam shrugged. "He was with you."

Dean looked out the window, "Nah, he's in the parking lot, here, I'll take it to him."

Sam passed him a box and a plastic fork and he hurried out the door.

* * *

Dean handed Castiel the box.

"Is she awake?"

Dean shook his head. "No. Lita got her cleaned up, dressed, and she's asleep. A lot more restful now, though. And she looks alive now."

"Good. That's good... Dean, when you and Sam left the bunker, Crowley had been there. I have reason to think he may have stayed after I left."

Sam wandered out the door, making his way over to them.

"After you left?... So, Crowley might have been there when Melissa was there by herself?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Castiel replied. "Lita told me she saw a mark on Melissa, not the scars on her back, one that shouldn't be there."

"She told me Melissa had been trying to scrub off a tattoo." Sam spoke up.

"She stopped for a motorcycle on the way here, maybe she decided to hit a shop and get a tat?" Dean suggested.

"Melissa can't bear the thought of having her skin punctured in any way, that's why she had her children at home with a midwife, to avoid an I.V., she would never get a tattoo."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "No drugs? That sounds pretty determined."

"So where is this mystery tattoo? Maybe we can get an idea what it means?" Dean said.

"According to Lita, it's on Melissa's right breast." Castiel said matter-of-factly.

"Not it." Dean said immediately, backing up a step. Sam threw him a bitchface that resonated with an unspoken 'Seriously?'

The door opened, and all of them turned to look. Lita pointed her head out the door. "She's awake, and she's eating. I have to go call my cousin, can one of you sit with her?"

"Figure it out, you two." Dean said, pointing between Sam and Castiel add he headed for the door.

Sam turned to Castiel. "I don't want to think about this too much, maybe, depending on how it's, uh... oriented, we can have her take a picture, crop it and go from that?"

Castiel began to poke at his food. "Perhaps... Lita did say something else, though."

"Do I want to know?"

"Melissa thinks I put the mark on her. She thinks I betrayed her trust, even before I killed her... That's probably why the first thing she said to me when she woke up was to tell me to stay away from her." Castiel's lever of dejected was rising above his level of concern. The mix of the two was rough for Sam to see.

* * *

"Oh, man, you scared us this morning." Dean said. "But look at you now. You know I think I prefer the dress to the body bag and, uh.. "

Hello, death glare... how did she do that? Were saints allowed to do that?

Dean's voice went far more somber. "Sorry, it's too soon. I know... You did scare us, though... It wasn't easy seeing you in the morgue."

"I saw a little bit of the news before Lita turned it off. She left the remote over there, I don't think she wanted me to see too much." Melissa said. "You guys called my family, right? They know I'm not dead?"

"Sam has been in contact with Chase, I don't know what Chase has said to anyone, but he knows. He was a big help, made stealing your corpse pretty easy." Dean said, kicking himself for the worst phrasing ever.

"Are the authorities going to be looking for me? Or, my body?" Melissa asked, cringing.

"No. Chase ordered an urn, Sam took it over and showed the mortician some random person's ashes, and the whole thing got swept under the rug... Well, not the ashes, he probably put those back... Anyway, they aren't looking for you." Dean said, not sure what else he should tell her.

"Why did I die?" Melissa asked quietly.

Dean shifted, putting his knees on his elbows. "What do you remember?"

Melissa took a moment to think about it. "I was in an alley, getting ready to go into the factory, I asked for protection from the God and Goddess, and Crowley showed up. I asked him not to interfere with my prayer, and he didn't."

"That explains the comment." Dean muttered. "Go on, what else?"

"I put out the candles, grabbed my stuff, tossed it into the touring pack, and headed for the building. I just rode right in. Slammed a couple of people into a wall, I guess. And you were on the stairs." Melissa shook her head. "Everything else is fuzzy."

Dean nodded. "Did you, um... did you bless your bike, or something?"

"Of course. I do a quick blessing every time I get a new vehicle."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Makes sense. Explains some more stuff."

Dean got up off the couch and paced a bit. "Cas told me before we left the bunker, that if a Lla- a, uh, saint, if they become corrupted, the world doesn't have 36, and everything ends. The whole world falls apart. There's a little bit of time during that where an angel has the ability to take you out so the world can be saved."

Melissa looked like she was going to cry again. "Did I hurt someone? Did I kill an innocent person?"

"No! No..." Dean sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "You were thinking about it. Crowley showed up, told you if you killed Lita, he would make all of this stop. He wanted to corrupt you, and he found a way. It's not your fault."

The opened and Sam and Castiel came inside.

"How is this not my fault? Why would I even considering killing someone who wasn't hurting anybody?"

"Because Crowley said it would save your kids, and by extension, the world. The idea of one live versus millions is pretty tempting, even if you know it's wrong." Sam said, sitting down on the couch.

Dean felt his phone start ringing, and squeezed Melissa's shoulder before standing up to get it from his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Dean... I need help." Lita's voice came through. He looked at the screen. 666... he put it back to his ear, making a beeline for the door, motioning for Sam to follow immediately.

"Lita, where are you?"

"Hello, Dean."

"Crowley? I swear, I'm not messing around."

The door closed behind them.


	29. Chapter 29

(A/N: This story alone is now well past 60k.. yikes. Also I have two super hot side stories going.

Anyway, let me remind everyone... oh, jeez, I hate thinking about some of this...

Please take care of your mental health! The last thing I'd want is for someone to be hurt by anything I wrote! Love to you all!

********** TRIGGER WARNING **********

Melissa comes off pretty shitty toward Cas now, but keep in mind what she's been through, age 14, John drugged her, strapped her to a table and carved symbols into her back, even while she was waking up, age 16/17ish, Cas saved her, either just before or possibly during gang-rape, around 23, her husband was using drugs and beating her, Cas got her out of that, too. Now she's found this freaky mark, and figures it has to be Cas. Cas kills her, and she's stuck inside her dead body in sheer terror for the better part of a day, but she had no sense of time.

***************)

* * *

Castiel stood by the table, awkwardly. "Are you all right, Melissa?"

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not dead anymore... I suppose I'm supposed to thank you for that?"

Castiel could tell Melissa was upset with him, but he felt compelled to answer her. "No. No, I would never ask you to do that, being as I ended your life to begin with."

"You what?" Melissa asked, her voice weak, and possibly not even certain she'd said it aloud. "You killed me?"

Castiel looked her in the eyes, about to apologize, but she spoke first. "Do you know what it was like for me? Trapped in my own head?"

"Melissa, please... I could hear you screaming the entire time." Castiel came to kneel next to the bed. "I could feel your emotions, and I have been into Hell. What you suffered was far worse."

"Dean said an angel can kill a corrupt Lamed Vavnik, but only to save the world... Did you have a choice, or not?"

Castiel shook his head in response. "I didn't. But I feel that doesn't change my guilt in this matter."

Castiel reached for Melissa's hand, but she turned away. "Melissa, there's more... The night you forced grace into me while I was unconscious in the bunker, when I came around, Crowley was there. That's why I drew the sigil on the door of your bedroom... but I removed it before I left. I think now that removing it was a mistake."

Melissa looked back to him. "What does it matter? The door was locked."

"The lock means nothing to Crowley... Lita said you have a mark. One you didn't have when I left you." Castiel glanced at the bodice of her sundress.

"Get away from me, now." Melissa said firmly.

Castiel stood as he came to the conclusion Melissa had no reason to believe him. "I understand you think I've done this to you. Please remember what I said to you the final time your ex husband struck you."

Melissa looked down at her hands, and leaned a little harder into the pillows. "I remember fine. Not sure if you do."

* * *

Dean set the phone on the roof of the car on speaker. "Okay, I can listen now, what do you want?"

"Just a little coffee date and heart to heart with my friend, Castiel."

"Cas is a big boy, he can make his own decisions, why did you call me?" Dean said, glancing at Sam, who was keeping silent.

"Because otherwise, he'll never leave baby sister's side. Surprised you haven't run him off already, or down an aisle with a shotgun to his back. How's she feeling, by the way?" Crowley asked, clearly not caring.

"She died, asshole. How do you think?"

Crowley paused. "Have Big Bird meet me at the coffee shop on 18th and Greenlawn. One person can wait in the parking lot while I chat with our feathered friend, and then you can have your lovely Lita back."

Dean was about to speak again, but the call ended. He turned to Sam. "It's a trap, isn't it?"

Sam was clearly tense. "Probably."

Dean shoved his phone into his pocket. "I'm getting her back and taking her back to the college. We are not losing her."

"Dean, what's the deal with you and Lita? Did something happen when you were in Texas?" Sam asked.

"What? No, she's religious, and you know me, modest girls are not my type, like, at all. I mean, she's sweet, strong... really pretty... But no booze, no bacon... No way. Too young for me, anyway." Dean said, turning toward the hotel room.

"Dude..." Sam hurried after him. "Who are you trying to convince?"

* * *

Dean ducked into the room, closely followed by Sam. "Okay, sounds like Lita's okay, we just have to go get her, Cas, you up for another drive?"

Sam was about half way to the couch. "You'll fill him in on the details first, right?"

"Yeah, he'll hear everything. Don't worry about it." Dean said, motioning to Melissa.

Sam nodded. "Okay, well, we'll be here."

After the door closed, Melissa sat up. "I think I should call Chase, check on my kids, but I haven't seen my phone around."

"It's probably in police evidence." Sam said.

Suddenly the room was filled with a heavy silence.

Sam handed her his phone, and moved to sit on the couch.

Melissa was still exhausted and had trouble dialing the number. She hit speaker and put it on the bed.

"Hello? Everything okay, Sam?" Chase's voice came through with minimal static.

"No, Chicken-chaser, it's me."

"Oh my god, Melissa! It's good to hear your voice. It's been pretty rough here."

"How are my kids?" Melissa asked, tears staring to run.

"Safe and sound. Leann's got a few close friends who came over and helped shield the place as soon as we heard."

"It's been pretty horrible, but I'm back in one piece, they'll never know the difference... I can't wait to see them."

The phone went silent, and Sam looked at it, bracing himself for what he knew was likely to come next.

"Mel, the whole world has heard that you're dead. We need to talk about this. I have your death certificate on my desk as we speak."

"Yeah, but what does it matter? I'm okay now, I don't care if I have to change our names, I know you can funnel a small portion to me in some small town somewhere, and I can raise my kids in peace and quiet."

"Melissa, think about it. If you got found out, and your kids are old enough to spill it, you'd be charged with faking your own death. People would be suspicious of all of it, especially with how you could afford it and why, considering you've been up to your elbows in every charity and non-profit we have. All of that, everything you worked for would be gone. The thousands of people who are helped every day, entire programs would be gone. And how would your kids grow up like that? What happens when people ask questions and suddenly they have to move again? Living a constant lie?"

"Chase, what are you talking about?"

"Melissa, you can't get the kids back without running their lives. You can't tell anyone who you are. You're dead. It's time for a new life... I know this hurts, but I'm trying to keep you from making a huge mistake, here. Everything you've got is going in a trust for the boys. Anything they need, anything you need, that will come from me, so no one will raise an eyebrow. Get a fake passport and travel the world, Mel. Go do all that great stuff you missed out on when you married that asshole before you were old enough to buy a beer, and make your second chance at life amazing. When the kids are older, I'll tell them... And I'll tell them this is my fault."

Melissa sat silently shaking her head. "I can't. I can't leave my kids. You have to let me see them."

"I love you, Mel, and I'm sorry. You can blame me for this as much as you want. I'm going to wire Sam some money right away so you can get started, and I really hope you see my side of this later. But I can't let you tear the children's lives apart, you know I love them like they were my own kids... I'm so sorry."

Melissa sat silently, her face buried in her hands.

"Melissa? ... I know it doesn't make it any easier, but I got the info on the bike you trashed in that warehouse, and I called the Harley dealer there in St Louis. There's one exactly like it ready for Sam to pick up tomorrow morning, in your favorite color. Please call if you need anything. Even if you just need to talk. Love you, sis."

Sam looked up, expecting to see Melissa throw the phone at the wall, but all he saw was heartbreak as she pushed the button to end the call.

Melissa turned to him, eyes full of tears. "Is he right?... Are they safer without me?"

Sam shrugged. "Before yesterday, I would have said no. But there's no way to know that. At least this way, they won't have to lie about who they are. They can live a normal life. That's something I never got... I'd like to say I turned out just fine, but... well, I'm a recovered demon blood addict, I've literally allowed Satan into my body, and I've watched Dean die, literally hundreds of times, so I think that's out."

Sam got up and sat on the bed, putting an arm around her. "Our dad's closest friend, Bobby, he used to take care of me and Dean, sometimes for weeks at a time. Bobby was a hunter, too, but he was more on the book side of things. If dad had just left me and Dean there, we probably would have been better off. We would have been in a stable home with adult supervision, and someone making sure we did our homework, cleaned our room, and had a dinner that actually qualified as food. Most of the time we didn't have that."

"Yeah, but I'm not him." Melissa said around a sob.

"No. You're not. But you are legally dead. I'm not saying it will, but might make things even harder for them than it was for us."

* * *

Dean waited until Castiel got in next to him.

"Okay, here's the deal... Crowley has Lita. He says all he wants is a conversation with you, and she gets to leave." Dean explained.

"I'm not at full strength, you know. I could be overpowered." Castiel said quietly.

"Yeah, that worries me, too. But he was pretty clear that all he wants to do is talk, if he wanted Melissa, I'm sure he would have said so." Dean said, starting the engine.

"He did say he had lost all interest in her." Castiel commented.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, and sometimes he lies... So really, we have no idea what's about to happen when we get there."

"I'll help in any way I can." Castiel said.

Dean put it in gear, and headed for the coffee shop.

* * *

"Come on, you need to move around a bit, get your blood moving." Sam said, when the silence had become unbearable. "Pretty sure this is some kind of after effect of... well..."

"Rigor mortis?" Melissa asked without amusement.

"I was going to say 'being dead,' but if you want to put it like that..." Sam muttered.

Sam helped her get onto her feet, and start to move to the table. She stumbled a bit, but managed to stay upright. Sam stayed a step behind her. "So how is it you've seen Dean die so many times? Is this normal for you?"

"Well with Dean, it was all basically on the same day. And, not... it's complicated."

"I bet." Melissa replied. "So, what, you figured out post-death physical rehab?"

"Yeah. Play some Asia." Sam scoffed.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Just, uh... okay, doing better." Sam offered in encouragement.

Melissa got herself into a chair, stiffly, but under her own strength. "For a log, maybe."

"It'll come back to you. Just like riding a bike... Speaking of bikes, we'll need to pick up your new one before we leave town."

"I can't ride like this. We may have to tow it, unless one of you guys knows how?"

"Well, I don't know about Dean, but I can... don't think your helmet will fit me, but I still have that credit card you gave me, and it's still working."

* * *

Dean watched carefully as Castiel went into the coffee shop.

Crowley sat at a table, clearly visible, facing the window. Two cups of coffee sat on the table before him. He smiled a little too innocently as Castiel approached.

Dean took a look at a utility van at the edge of the parking lot. He didn't see anyone in the front of it, but he could have sworn he'd seen it sway.

He watched Castiel sit down, and waited.

* * *

"Crowley." Castiel said, more in acknowledgement than in greeting as he sat down.

"Castiel. How's your lovely lady? Better, I trust?"

Castiel shifted slightly. "So this is about Melissa."

"Only slightly... I'm sure you've noticed by now, the cold shoulder? The silent treatment? Someone's lost that loving feeling?"

Castiel looked Crowley in the eyes, but didn't answer.

"Well," Crowley said, taking his cup in hand, "I suppose it doesn't always work out. The divorce rate what it is, and all."

"You did something. Before she arrived in the city, before you forced my hand. You did something to her." Castiel said quietly, his rage building.

"Whatever may have happened before, whatever help we've provided each other, whatever truces we've called... I wanted one thing, payback, and you stood in my way. I just wanted to see your face when you realized, whatever you had with her, it's gone. She will never come back to you. Not in the way you want."

Castiel got up and headed straight for the door.

* * *

Dean watched his friend at the table for a moment before looking back to the van. A door on the side opened, and someone was shoved out, roughly, landing on their hands and knees on the pavement.

Lita stood up, defiantly, and began walking to the Impala. Dean leaned over and opened the passenger side door for her.

"Hey, are you okay?" Dean asked, taking a look at her face. Her lip was bleeding, but otherwise she seemed fine. "Let me see your hands."

Dean pulled out a flask, and poured a small amount over her torn up palms.

"That's not regular water, is it?" Lita asked.

"Sorry. Can't be too careful... Did they hurt you?"

Lita shook her head. "I'll be all right."

"Your scarf is a little messed up." Dean said, noting a fair bit of her hair showing.

"Sometimes I think I should just stop wearing it. Plenty don't." She said quietly, flexing her damaged hands slightly.

"I don't know, I think you should do things your own way. It's your life." Dean said. "Can I help?"

Lita nodded, and Dean adjusted her scarf to cover her hair and throat. "Sorry. Best I can do, I'm afraid."

"Thank you."

Castiel came out, and got into the back seat. Dean wanted to ask, but Castiel's silence said volumes.


	30. Chapter 30

(A/N: I can tell from my stats that I've got some regular folks coming back to read the new stuff. I'd love to know what parts stuck out as good, effective, or totally lame, if anyone wants to drop me a line. Thanks for reading!)

* * *

"Hey... did you manage to make that call to your cousin?" Dean asked as they approached the hotel.

"Yes, he has a great aunt on his father's side living in Fort Worth. He asked me to stay with her until he can fly in, someone in my dorm reported me missing. There's likely to be a lot of paperwork when I get back. Having family around will make it easier."

Dean looked a little concerned, "This the same cousin trying to get you into that hunter's hotline, right?"

Lita nodded.

"What's he like? Must be pretty modern not to follow suit and disown you, huh?"

Lita chuckled. "Actually, my parents are very secular. When I started to get deeper into my faith, that's when the family issues started, and when I started wearing my hijab to places other than the Mosque and my grandmother's house, I was told I was embarrassing. That everyone was going to stare and think I was a terrorist."

Dean shook his head. "Wow... wasn't expecting that... I guess there's no pleasing some people."

Castiel was staring continuously out the window in the back seat, but spoke as he turned to Lita. "It will always be clear to anyone who matters when someone does their best to live a holy life, as you do."

Dean looked into the rear view mirror, he had seen this kind of stress on Castiel's face before.

* * *

Lita got out of the Impala and headed inside to clean up as Sam came out. "What happened to her?"

"She was punched in the face, and fell on the ground. Her injuries are minor." Castiel said blankly.

"Listen, Melissa called Chase, and basically told her to stay gone. Everyone knows she died, she can't go back." Sam said, his shoulders drooping slightly.

"What about her kids?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"He's keeping them. Says if she needs to move around, hide her identity, that they should have a stable home. He's going to keep sending her money to live on, told her to travel and make it good, but he's not telling the kids she's still alive until they're older." Sam shrugged.

"There's got to be some way she can fight this." Dean said.

"Yeah, well, a dead woman will have a hard time getting custody."

Castiel hung his head. "This is my fault. If I had attempted to heal her in the morgue, there would have been a record listing her death as a mistake."

"C'mon, Cas," Sam said, "None of us are used to living above the radar, much less in the public eye. You can't blame yourself."

Dean scratched his head, "Okay, that sucks, but we're going to need to move forward. We need a second car to get Lita back to Texas. She's going to stay with some extended family for a bit."

"We can rent one. Also, Chase got her a replacement for the bike she just got, so I guess I'm taking that back to the bunker." Sam said, turning to look at the window. Melissa was still sitting at the table, looking overly tired, but talking to Lita.

"So what, the asshole baby stealer is trying to buy her off?" Dean asked, still angry.

"Dean, think about it. If dad had just left us at Bobby's one day and never came back, where would we be right now?... I'm not saying he's right, but he has a point. And he loves those kids."

"What does Melissa say?" Dean asked, also glancing at the window.

"She's upset, but I'm not sure what she thinks about it. If I had to guess, she's probably thinking about whether they're better off there."

* * *

Dean pulled into the dealership, looking for a full sized parking space. "Some nice colors. They look like fun... not much space to stretch out, though."

"If you're really nice, maybe she'll let you take if for a spin." Sam said. "I'm going to have to get a helmet to get it home, anyway."

Castiel followed the two through the glass doors.

Sam approached the counter to speak to a young woman in tight black clothes with visible tattoos, red hair, a nose ring, and dark lipstick. "Hi, my name is Sam Winchester, I'm here to pick up a purchase."

"Okay... I have something here, from a Faulkner, is that right?" she said, looking at her screen.

"That would be it."

"Okay," she shook her head, "The bike is being fitted with upgraded highway pegs, and a better stereo, it'll be done in a few minutes, and it's not closed out yet, so you can add onto the purchase, there's a note about safety gear. Just find what you need, we have associates who can help you find your size, and come see me when you're done."

Castiel followed Dean as he wandered over to a row of bikes. Sam headed to the other side of the store. The motorcycles were all in pristine condition, perfect paint and shining metal.

Sam got a helmet and gloves, and they headed for the parking lot.

Sitting just outside of a large open bay, a motorcycle very similar to the one Melissa had ridden while tearing into the factory.

After looking at it for a moment, Dean broke the silence. "The one she had was red."

Sam shrugged. "Chase said it was the same one, but in her favorite color."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Castiel. "Huh... ok..."

Castiel looked back and forth between his friends, certain he was missing something.

Sam chuckled, and went to speak to a nearby man with a clipboard.

Dean circled the bike. He didn't have much experience with motorcycles, but everything looked to be in perfect shape. "Looks safe enough. What do you think, Cas?"

"As long as Sam is careful, he should have no problems." Castiel said quietly.

* * *

Sam pulled into the hotel parking lot, parked the new bike in clear view of the window, and tried to wipe the grin off his face. He had missed it. Running with the windows down was never quite good enough.

He went inside. "Okay, once they get back with the rental car, we'll be all set. Do you want to take a look?"

Melissa's face looked a little gray. "No, I'm sure I'll see it on the road."

"Maybe you should lay down for a bit." Sam said, concerned.

"That's what I told her, but she says she's only interested in getting out of the city." Lita responded lightheartedly.

Melissa looked around the room. "I woke up in here this morning in a body bag. I don't think I ever want to come back to this state."

Lita nodded. "I guess you wouldn't."

"Come on," Sam said, stepping closer to her chair. He scooped her up and set her on the bed. She slumped over into the pillows, but past that, she didn't stretch out. Sam considered how small she looked.

* * *

Sam came praise when he heard the familiar sound of the Impala's engine, and waited by the door.

A modern grey luxury sedan followed it into the lot.

Sam approached the newer car as Castiel got out of it.

"Hey, Sammy. How'd it handle?" Dean called over, gesturing to the motorcycle.

"It's perfect. You should give it a try." Sam replied, watching Dean had for the door, still looking at the bike.

He turned back to Castiel. "Cas, Melissa doesn't look too good. Anything you can do?"

Castiel closed the door. "I've done all I can to heal her. I don't know what else I can do. She's not comfortable around me right now."

"Okay. It's okay, Cas." Sam said, patting his shoulder. "Let's just get her back to the bunker, and we'll see what we can do from there."

Castiel nodded and waited by the rental car. He knew it would be at least seven hours. Sam would be on the motorcycle, and Dean was taking Lita back to Texas. There would be no walls, no other people, just the two of them in a car for seven hours. He had seen enough of the Winchesters' tense times to know this was not going to be a comfortable trip.

* * *

Sam picked up the last bag and went outside to stow it in the trunk of one of the vehicles. Lita followed him, carrying what little she had. Castiel hadn't come inside.

"Hey, time to wake up." Dean said, leaning next to the bed, putting his hand on Melissa's shoulder.

Melissa opened her eyes, but for a moment, she didn't seem to be aware of anything. Dean wondered if she was getting worse.

"Ready to get back to the bunker? Got a really comfortable car out front waiting on you." Dean said quietly.

"Great." Melissa said, exhausted and sarcastic, but starting to sit up. "A nice long ride with the guy that killed me, that'll be fun."

"He's still a mess from that, you know. There was only the whole world to think of. I'm sorry about your side effects, but if the world ended, your kids would have gone with it."

Melissa hung her head. "I don't know what to think anymore. I spent so long telling myself people have hurt me for my own good, or because I deserved it, I can't do it. I can't make those excuses anymore. It's not okay."

Dean helped her get upright. "No, that's not okay. But it's different because Cas would never willingly hurt you. He brought you back knowing it was going to drain him, maybe even kill him."

He gently lifted her to her feet, supporting her, helping her get to the door. He reached for the bedside table and scooped up the flip flops Lita had told Sam to get, still holding on to her. She made it to the door, but she was shaking with the effort. "I can't... I just can't..."

Dean picked her up and carried her to the car.

Sam, Lita, and Castiel were gathered around the bike on the far side of the Impala as Dean got her into the passenger side of the rental. He leaned in and moved her seat for her, tilting it back, and fastening the belt.

"Look, try to get some sleep, but remember, you can trust him. You don't want to be around him, that's fine, but you can trust him. That was the only reason you trusted me, right?"

"Dean... you held a gun to my head." She said, with a sardonic tilt to her eyebrow.

"... There's no blankets in here, I'm going to get you a blanket." Dean said, tossing the flip flops into the floor and closing the door quickly.

He got a blanket from the trunk of his car, and passed it to Castiel. "She might want that later."

Castiel accepted it. "Humans do tend to lose body heat when they sleep."

"Yeah... make sure she eats later, a normal time, okay?... Sam?"

"Yeah, we'll get some dinner. Probably sit in the car so she doesn't have to walk around." Sam said, helmet under his arm, adjusting a strap.

"And get there in one piece, okay? Don't drive like... well, like us."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, don't worry. Cas'll be right behind me."

Dean turned back to the Impala, where Lita was already getting in.

* * *

Castiel had carried the blanket over to the luxury car, finding Melissa already asleep as he got in. He set the blanket down in the floor behind the center console, and adjusted the rear view mirror.

He saw his own eyes for a moment, then saw Sam go past on the motorcycle.

The shade of blue paint on the motorcycle was nearly a perfect match.

Sam stopped at the corner of the parking lot, waiting on him. He looked at Melissa's sleeping form. Of course it would be unlikely more than coincidence. But now he thought he had an idea what Dean had meant.

Castiel pulled the car out and got on the road behind Sam.

* * *

After a bit of riding in silence, Dean passed Lita his phone. "Here, why don't you check along I-44, see where we'll be able to stop for dinner."

Lita took the phone and started searching.

"What kind of food do you usually eat?" she asked, hoping to find something that would suit them both.

"Well, I'm a big fan of burgers. Pretty much can't go wrong there. But I understand you're a vegetarian, not a lot of options."

"This burger place has vegetarian options, and it's only two blocks off the highway. The reviews are good."

"Where's it at?" Dean asked, craning his neck to try to see his screen.

"Springfield." Lita said.

The conversation turned to The Simpsons, a shared interest. After much back and forth, which Springfield the cartoon was set in was googled, and the point conceded that neither knew the series as well as they thought. They compared favorite episodes and quotes, happy to have found something fun to laugh about and pass the time.

* * *

Castiel stayed behind the motorcycle, and wondered how much longer Melissa was likely to sleep. He wasn't looking forward to speaking with her when she woke up, unsure what he should say.

When he'd first healed her in the factory, she'd pushed him away. Not the type of push that meant she was in a hurry, he was certain that had been a look of disgust on her face.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He could tell without a doubt that she wasn't well. Her sleep was becoming fitful. Her head rolled to one side, exposing the side of her neck.

Castiel couldn't help but think back to tangling his hands in her hair as she slept next to him, both of them clothed only in sheets and blankets. He had lifted her hair and seen the faintest bruising, unnoticeable to human eyes, and it had occurred to him that he had unwittingly marked her with his teeth. Like some sort of uncontrolled animal. He had felt guilty.

She turned slightly, throwing a hand up a little too hard, and finding the door just below the window. "Oww... son of a..."

"Are you all right?" Castiel asked softly.

"Better now, actually. But you probably already know that." she answered dryly.

"I don't. I haven't been paying attention to your dreams... I didn't think you would want me to."

"I was waking up on the table again." Melissa said plainly.

"If you start to seem distressed again, I'll wake you." Castiel said, trying to get a look at her face.

Melissa raised the back of her seat slightly,and started out the windshield saying nothing for some time.

"Is that my bike?"

"Yes. Sam is driving it."

"Riding."

Castiel glanced at her again. "What is the difference?"

"It's like horses. If you're riding a horse, you're on it. If you hook it up to the front of a wagon, you aren't on it, but you're making it move forward, pulling you. The engine is in front of you in a car, you're driving, it's below you when you're on a bike."

Castiel considered the terms for a moment. "What is it called when you use a Volkswagen Beetle, with the engine located in the rear of the vehicle?"

"A glorified wheelbarrow, I don't know..."

It had gotten dark, and soon Sam turned on his blinker. He pulled into the back of a parking lot, and got off the bike, stretching. He came over to the car, as Castiel lowered the window.

"Hey, how does some real food sound? You'd have to get out of the car..."

"Real food sounds great. As long as I can lean on someone, I'll be okay." Melissa said.

"Okay, Cas, pull over by the door, and help her get inside, then go park the car and come find us." Sam said, patting the door. He stood up and started walking to the building as Castiel pulled around.

After getting Melissa out and closing the door, he turned to go inside.

"How's it going with Cas?" Sam asked, giving her a squeeze and trying to take most of her weight.

"I'd be riding bitch if I didn't think I'd fall off... Haven't ruled it out."

"So, tense..." Sam stopped to tell the hostess they needed a table for three, and asked for a booth.

"Tense. Sure." Melissa said quietly.

Sam helped her into the corner of the booth, and sat down next to her, figuring she wanted space from Castiel, who joined them a moment later.

After a waitress cane by for their drink orders, Melissa set her menu down. "Maybe I should have asked sooner, but, when I was dead, did anyone happen to grab my pills from the bike I slammed into that wall?"

Sam looked up. "Oh, crap."

Melissa nodded. "Okay, I have some emergency ones in my stuff at the bunker-"

Sam shook his head. "Cas, are you up to zapping into a pharmacy?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have the ability to do that right now."

"Okay. We'll handle long term later," Sam turned to Melissa, "Would a doctor carry samples?"

"A cardiologist might."

"Okay," Sam passed her his phone, "name and dose."

Melissa pulled it up on a website. "This is it."

"Okay." Sam pointed at the menu in front of him. "Grab me one of these with extra avocado. I'll be back soon."

Castiel looked up as Sam hurried off.

Melissa went back to looking at her menu.

"Melissa...?"

"Nope."

"...I don't understand." Castiel said haltingly.

"I don't want to talk right now. And I don't want you to talk either."

Castiel leaned over the table slightly. "It doesn't bother you?"

"What, the mark on my skin?" She said, dropping her menu again.

"No." Castiel paused. "Sam is stealing for you."

"I can't exactly do it myself right now. And it's not something I can go without."

"But does it matter to you?" Castiel probed further.

Melissa looked around before hissing out her answer. "Of course it bothers me, if it goes wrong, it causes problems for Sam, if it goes right, some innocent bystander could lose their job. There's nothing good about this, but I can't die again. I can't get stuck in my head again."

Castiel tried to hide the look of hope in his eyes. "I understand. I'm sorry."

* * *

Dean and Lita sat at a table, meals finished, still discussing quality television.

"Okay, Futurama was pretty good, but I can't stand South Park." Lita said, giggling.

"What about Family Guy?" Dean asked.

"No! ... Well maybe the first two seasons... which I will never admit to owning!" Lita said, laughing.

"American Dad, with that alien, and the fish that always wants to bang the mom?" Dean asked, also laughing.

"I never miss it. But don't tell anyone, it's inappropriate. Oh, if the Imam at my grandma's Mosque ever found out..." Lita started giggling harder, "No, wait, already disowned."

Dean laughed and took a sip of his drink. "If you don't tell my brother I ate a veggie burger... Y'know, it didn't suck. I was expecting it to be horrible. Not great, but not the worst burger I've even had."

"I don't understand why I've been in Texas for almost six months, the state tree is pecan, and I've never had pecan pie." Lita said, shaking her head, still smiling.

"Well, you'll have to try it again when you're back in Texas." Dean said, biting his lip, trying not to smile.

"Why?" Lita asked, not even trying not to smile.

"Because those aren't Texan pecans, they're from Springfield." Lita started to giggle again. "No, look, look at the crust, it's going to blink at you with three eyes."

Dean caught himself, and tried to straighten out his face.

Lita was certainly lit up by the interaction.

"Oh, man, it's getting late. We find a couple of rooms pretty soon, we can get back on the road first thing, we should be in the metroplex around eleven a.m."

"Right..." Lita agreed. "I think they have a new hotel here, near the monorail."

"Near the Kwik E. Mart, yeah." Dean said, trying not to start smiling again.

* * *

Sam came back to the table looking slightly frazzled.

"Okay, well. That was productive." He said quietly as he took a seat next to Melissa. She was half done with her sampler meal, but looked as if she was about to keel over.

Sam slipped her something under the table. It was a blister pack of a single tablet. The advertising listed it as the correct medication in the next higher dose from what she normally used.

"Not perfect, but it'll get me through." Melissa muttered. "Thanks."

Castiel looked away. He wished he had tried years ago to heal her heart condition. It had never crossed his mind. She was probably at risk of heart failure now, seeing as it had stopped for a considerable time in the last 24 hours.

"Long term, you need a new I.D., and a doctor who will keep quiet." Sam said, digging into his southwest salad.


	31. Chapter 31

(A/N: This one is a little rough, but if you're still reading, you've already been through the worst of it, for now. Nothing too graphic/intense. Although I do know where it's going from here, and it's going to break someone down in the next few chapters.)

* * *

Dean couldn't help noticing a few young men at the counter as he took the bill to the register to pay. They sat talking quietly, with the occasional burst of laughter, but to his mind, they had been looking at Lita far too frequently.

He went back to the table to wait for Lita, and pulled out his phone. He had hoped to get past Tulsa, but he supposed they weren't in a huge hurry.

The laughter came from the counter again, and Dean started to listen in as he looked for hotel listings nearby.

He was sure he'd heard something, and it didn't sound good. Another comment, insensitive even to Dean's standards, and a short round of chuckling.

The group at the counter made their way outside.

Lita came back from the restroom, and Dean stood up. "All set?"

Heading back to the car, Dean was quiet, watching.

He pulled in to a hotel two blocks up, around the corner from a bar he remembered from a few years before.

"I'll just be a minute." He said, shutting the door and heading into the office.

The small, elderly woman with white hair at the counter looked past him out the window as he went in. "How can I help you?"

"Two rooms, please."

"Certainly..." she said, taking his information, counting out his change and passing him key cards.

"Just hope her family doesn't find out." She said quietly.

"Sorry?" Dean said.

"Oh, it's no skin off my nose what goes on, but you know, you see it on the news. Those... 'honor killings.' Horrible. Doesn't happen much here, but you can't help but worry. Those poor girls... There you go, dear, 133 and 134. They're adjoining."

Dean took the key cards and headed back out to the car, turning it over in his head.

The parking lot was a bit full, but he got a spot fairly close to their rooms.

Dean thought he heard something across the parking lot as he approached the trunk. He looked around but didn't see anything. He got two bags out of the trunk and went inside, giving Lita a card for the other room and telling her to open the adjoining door.

Once inside, he ran through his usual set up in both rooms, clearing each.

"Okay, should be all set. Any experience with guns?"

Lita shook her head, "Only the ones that shoot water."

"Okay, we'll skip that..." he said, moving to the two-layered door between the rooms. "I'll leave my side open, you need anything, and I mean that, anything, you so much as hear a weird noise, come find me, okay?"

"Okay... what has you so worried?" Lita asked.

Dean shrugged. "Call it a hunch... it's probably nothing. Get some sleep, okay?"

* * *

Sam helped Melissa into the car. She'd worn herself out, but her color had improved.

"There." Sam said.

Melissa tried to reach for her belt, but her hands were shaking from the effort of getting from the table to the car. Sam stretched it out, and passed it to Castiel.

"Okay, do you guys want to hit a hotel, or drive straight through?" Sam asked.

"I won't need to rest." Castiel said, snapping the buckle into place.

"No hotels... I'll be asleep anyway." Melissa said, leaning back.

"Okay, if you change your mind, just pull in somewhere and send me a text, I'll double back." Sam said, closing the door.

Castiel pulled the car closer to the motorcycle, and waited. Melissa was already breathing deeply with sleep. He reached the floor in the back and pulled out the blanket Dean had brought him. He spread it out over Melissa and turned back to the windshield as Sam threw a leg over the bike.

Half an hour later, Castiel's mind wandered back to the forest time he had heard Melissa's voice...

He hadn't had a vessel at all. He was only supposed to watch. He followed infallible orders, handed down from Heaven. His garrison had still been alive.

The sound of an average soul in sheer terror and pain was unbearable, but her cries had come out like a bolt of lightening.

Several of his brethren had scattered in fear. The few left had considered trying to stop him, but didn't want to follow him closer to the sound.

He had appeared, invisible to the human beings in the field. It had been obvious to Castiel what was taking place, and the perpetrators were easily frightened off. Castiel's true voice, shaking the ground, and causing ripples in the air had been plenty to scare them off. "Do not be afraid."

Melissa had rolled into her stomach, getting to her feet. She had taken several punches and kicks, had a busted lip, cracked ribs, and bruises formed a patchwork on her arms and legs.

She had heard him. She looked around, righting her displaced clothing, and asking aloud who was with her.

Castiel had answered her, but gave her the shortest answers he could, and disappeared just as suddenly.

In his pure form, fully connected to Heaven, with time fluid to him, he could be sure she would not have survived the attack.

Castiel had felt the damage then, the torture she had endured at the hands of her father only two years before.

He was afraid of the repercussions of his transgression that had allowed her to live.

A week later, he had been watching a duck taking it's hatchlings into the water for the first time, when he heard a human calling him by his name. It had been centuries since anyone had prayed to him, so he knew who the faint whisper belonged to.

He had slipped into her meditation easily. Her mind couldn't comprehend his true form, only as a formless being of light. He was able to speak to her directly, and she had thanked him for helping her, and asked what she could do to repay him.

Castiel had asked her to start looking in on an elderly woman who lived up the road from her, knowing she would. The woman took an instant liking to the girl, and with a steady connection with another person, she lived another five years. Long enough to see her first great grandchild.

Melissa had assisted him in roughly a dozen other small miracles in her community, and as she aged, her work in charities had caused countless others.

She had the willingness to trust him, and put her heart into the work she did, even when her very human habits caused her to do things other people judged her harshly for.

Then he met Dean. He knew this was Melissa's brother when they were sent to find him. He had had hope that Dean would be of a similar character, but he had turned out to be something much different.

Melissa may have been called the town tramp by a few nosy gossips when she got pregnant before she was old enough to purchase alcohol, but Dean attempted to live up to it. Melissa did her best to be kind to those around her, Dean was kind when it was necessary, or he wanted something. It had taken some time for him to find much worth in Dean.

Roughly a year after his damaging excursion to Hell, he heard her call out to him. She was desperate. He found her sitting on her bedroom floor, heavily pregnant and cradling a child not yet two. She had locked herself in, and her husband was trying to break the lock. His blood was tainted, and he was suffering withdrawal. He had a weapon. She had a black eye.

The door had given way, the gun had gone off, and Castiel had put the man on the floor, unconscious, before transporting Melissa and her child to her father's home.

Castiel looked at her again. Her face had changed so much, but until she had found him in the factory, he hadn't seen a change in her personality. Wisdom had developed through the years, but there was too much out of character now.

This mark, whatever it was, had altered her.

But at the same time, there were enough signs left of her pure soul, he was sure that what he brought back, whatever was happening to her, deep down, it was Melissa.

* * *

"Dean?"

Dean woke with a start, surprised he hadn't heard footsteps.

Lita stood near the bed, leaning toward him. She had thoroughly covered herself in a sheet, and her thick, textured hair hung in a long braid over her shoulder. "There are some people outside my room."

Dean jumped up, grabbing his gun. "Stay in here, stay hidden. Try not to make any noise."

He hurried into the next room. Sure enough, he could make out the shadows of three people, all looked to be men, and they were trying to jimmie the latch on the window.

Dean crept to the door, and held his gun up close to his face. He pulled the door open and leaned out, keeping his right hand and the gun it held, out of sight.

"You got a problem?"

The three stood up, he recognized them from the restaurant. "Where's your buddy?... yeah, I know, there were four of you. Already called the cops, so you want to stay out of trouble, get lost."

The one who'd had a boot knife stuck in the window latch came closer, blade in hand.

Dean stepped out of the doorway just enough to bring the gun out, pointing straight at the other man's head. "You don't want that."

One of the two behind the guy with the knife stepped forward, pulling his friend back. "We're going. We don't want any trouble."

"Yeah, you change your mind on that, you know where I'll be." Dean yelled after them as they took off.

He waited until they had left the parking lot before he closed the door, moving to watch through the window in case they came back. He noticed his car looked to be fine.

"What if they come back?" Lita asked from the doorway.

Dean was still watching out the window. "If they come back, they'll probably mess with my car, and leave us alone, but I'll crash on the couch in here anyway... try to get back to sleep."

Lita got back into the bed. After a few more minutes, satisfied the car was likely safe, Dean went back to his room, taking the blanket from the bed, and stretching out on the sofa as he said he would, his gun on the end table in easy reach.

* * *

Castiel continued to replay memories in his mind as he drove.

Melissa was sleeping deeply, a side effect of a full meal. Deep enough that she didn't fuss when the nightmare began. It wasn't until she was too far in that her body reacted at all.

"Stop... STOP IT! DON'T!" Melissa shook herself awake as Castiel pulled over rather abruptly.

Melissa threw the blanket off, hitting the button on her seat belt as she scrambled out of the car, leaving the door wide open. A few steps into the grass, she fell to her knees, all at once gasping, gagging, and sobbing. Castiel came around the front end of the car. She looked as though she might fall over.

She cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, trying to calm her breathing, but the panic wasn't subsiding.

He could see, even in the dark, that she was too cold. Her thin dress wasn't made for night air. He wanted to offer her his coat, but he knew she wouldn't accept it. It was one more way he might mark her as his, which she already believed he'd done against her will.

He pulled the blanket from the car, and attempted to put it around her.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" she shrieked, still sobbing.

"Melissa, you have very little engery, you need to get back into the car." Castiel said calmly. "I can ease your panic attack, if you'll allow it, but if you don't get back in the car yourself, I'll either have to lift you, or wait for Sam."

She shook her head, breathing too hard to speak.

Feeling helpless, he sat down next to her, holding the blanket.

* * *

Sam noticed a lack of headlights in his mirror and slowed down. After a couple of miles, he stopped and checked his phone. No text, and they were well between towns, so they must not have stopped at a hotel.

He turned around, wondering what was wrong. Surely if it was an emergency, Castiel would have called him right away. Or would he? And did Castiel know how to use 911?

It wasn't long before he spotted the car, and pulled over on the wrong side of the road. The passenger side door was open, and he could see Castiel's familiar coat, sitting on the ground.

"What happened?" Sam called, taking off his helmet. "She okay?"

He didn't hear Castiel's answer, just set the helmet down and hurried over.

Castiel was sitting next to her, holding a blanket, and leaving about two feet of space between the two of them. His eyes carried a look that wasn't quite guilty, but certainly spoke to feeling guilty.

"She's had an episode of post traumatic stress, but she doesn't want my help right now." Castiel explained.

Sam offered Castiel a hand and pulled him to his feet, taking the blanket. "Why don't you go wait for a minute, give her some space, I'll try to talk her down."

Castiel wandered over to the motorcycle.

Sam crouched in front of Melissa, pulling the blanket around her. "Okay, I'm right here... is that true, what Cas said? Bad flash back, nothing else?"

Melissa didn't look at him, she was still trying to calm her breathing.

"Melissa, please... Just tell me this, did Cas hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, let's get you back in the car..." Sam said, standing up.

After he closed the door, he walked over to Castiel. "I put the radio on, it'll be quiet enough for her to sleep, but it should be enough sound to keep her from having that nightmare again. Picked it up from a psych class a long time ago."

"Thank you, Sam. I just wish I knew what to do to help her right now. She won't talk to me, nor listen." Castiel said, disheartened.

A few miles down the road, Castiel had nothing else to do but listen to the sound of the radio. Janis Joplin's song 'Piece of my Heart' played quietly. During the refrain, the repetition gave him an idea. An idea he hoped desperately would work.


	32. Chapter 32

(A/N: Hey... you're still reading... So, uh, there's a rather difficult discussion in this chapter, so... well, you've been warned. Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying it! FW)

* * *

Sam had gotten back on the motorcycle, moving it backward manually, and making a tight turn to get back on the road safely, going slow, so he could keep the car in sight.

He felt a little guilty asking if Castiel had hurt Melissa, not wanting to entertain the possibility, but he had watched him kill her, so he didn't feel he should rule out anything.

The loud sound of the bike was almost hypnotic, and they seemed to be making good time, so other than Melissa's issues, he was very relaxed. They would be at the bunker by dawn.

* * *

Dean stretched as he woke, checking around for his gun on instinct. He sat up and checked his phone. Nothing.

The first rays of sunlight were starting to show at the bottom of the curtains, and he went to take a look at his car. The Impala sat in the lot, unmolested.

Satisfied, he turned back to the room, picking up his gun and phone, gathering the blanket, and heading for his own room to get ready to leave.

Lita was in a deep sleep, and Dean couldn't help pausing at the door between the rooms. The sheet had slipped off her shoulder, revealing her smooth, tan skin and a white bra strap.

She was classically beautiful, in a way that was far less noticeable when she wore her scarf. Dean had noticed, though, and was only impressed further by what he could see now. He shook himself out of his stare, moving to the next room.

"Bacon and beer..." he muttered... "It would never work."

Leaving the blanket on the bed, he grabbed his duffel bag so he could dress in the bathroom after his shower, leaving the other doors wide open.

* * *

Castiel pulled the rental car into the garage, and shut off the engine.

Melissa woke, feeling the motor stop, and adjusted the seat to sit up, still groggy. "We're back?"

"Yes." Castiel replied.

Melissa reached for the door handle, as Castiel saw Sam closing the garage door in the rear view mirror. "I may know a way to remove the scars on your back."

Melissa froze. "What?"

"I have an idea. I'll need your brother's help, so it will have to wait until Dean is back." Castiel turned to look at her. "I promised years ago that I would look for a way to remove them. I've been sidetracked, but I haven't given up."

Melissa looked away, "Okay... How?"

Castiel considered the nightmares and flash backs she still dealt with. He thought about how real it had been when grace she had created caused him to experience it for himself. The terror and confusion... He didn't want to cause her fear, or have her refuse to allow it. "I'd rather not say."

She looked into his eyes, angry. "So I'm just supposed to trust you, then? Why the hell would I trust you right now?"

Sam was walking to the passenger door, and Castiel knew the conversation was likely to end. "You won't have to trust me, if you trust your brothers."

Sam pulled the door open, and helped Melissa stand.

Castiel got out of the car and folded the blanket, watching as Sam and Melissa disappeared down the same hallway he'd carried her down the last time they'd been here. He left the blanket sitting on the hood of one of the antique cars, and made for the library.

* * *

Dean knocked on the closed half of the adjoining door. "Lita?... You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

"Okay, I'm going to load up the car, just meet me there when you're done. No hurry." Dean said, hearing her acknowledgement and picking up both of his bags.

In the parking lot, he loaded the trunk, still watching around for the creeps who'd tried to break in during the night. He closed the trunk and got behind the wheel, checking his phone again.

Sam had sent word that they had arrived at the bunker safely, and Melissa seemed to be improving.

He looked up as the door opened. Lita sat down and put her purse on the floorboard next to her feet, pulling the door shut. Her scarf was visible in the top of it, and her hair was hanging in a fresh braid.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking around outside the car, to see if anyone else was around.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You seem to be missing some clothing." Dean replied.

"I'll put it back on when we get to Fort Worth... It's not fair to you if I'm walking around with a big target on my back, especially an optional one, when you're trying to keep me safe." Lita said, staring at the dashboard in front of her.

"What? No! C'mon," Dean flustered, "For you, that's like walking around topless, right?"

He continued to avoid looking at her as he leaned over, pulling the scarf out of her purse.

"I'm sorry, I'm not letting you leave the house half dressed, young lady." he thrust the scarf toward her. "Put your clothes on."

He hammed it up enough that Lita was giggling fairly hard as she took the scarf from him. "I thought you said I should decide for myself? It's my decision."

"Yeah, well, you told me what your decision is, and I support that." Dean turned to look at her once she was mostly covered, and tucking leftover fabric out of the way.

Lita turned to him when she was done, "Better?" she asked with an amused grin.

"Yeah, much better... Okay. Now that you're decent, what do you want for breakfast?" Dean asked, pulling the car around to the office to check out.

* * *

Sam came into the library quietly to check on Castiel before heading to bed.

"Hey... you okay, Cas?"

Castiel looked up from an old medical text involving veins and capillaries. "I'm well enough.

Sam sat down, waiting to see if Castiel had more to say.

"She doesn't seem to believe me, that Crowley was in the bunker." Castiel said quietly, turning a page. He seemed to be speaking more to himself. "She doesn't trust me... I'm going to need more grace if I attempt this, and I don't know if she'll help."

"What are you trying to do?" Sam asked.

"The symbols carved in her skin, it reaches into shallow muscle, and there was a tincture added into the wounds, it's still present in the scar tissue. I've figured out how to heal slowly, continuously, but it's very distracting." Castiel turned the page again. "The scarring in the muscle runs very close to her lungs... a practiced hand may be able to remove it..."

"While you're healing her?" Sam said, trying to finish his thought.

"If I were to heal her in a rhythm, like a pulse, it would replace the removed pieces of flesh with new flesh. I could also keep her sedated." Castiel said, looking up from the book again.

"But to keep control of both sedating her and healing her at the same time, you wouldn't be able to cut out the scars..." Sam said, understanding. "But wait, if they go close to the lungs, there's a risk of puncturing them while you're distracted, so we would need a surgeon, right?"

"No, Sam. I'm going to be doing the healing... all we need is someone who's an expert on removing flesh while keeping the person alive." Castiel said, shaking his head with obvious regret.

Sam's face twisted, "You don't mean...? No! God, Cas, you can't ask him to do this! You know how bad his time there messed him up!"

"She won't live forever, Sam. And when she dies, she's trapped. If no one is around who knows to cremate her, she would be in her own mind for quite some time, but without the concept of time. For you, it could be a matter of months, for her, it could seem like a million years. In that time, she'll become something else, something twisted... and then she'll be loose." Castiel looked down at the book again.

Sam shook slightly. "Stuck, and alone... like her own personal cage?... Like Lucifer?"

Castiel nodded.

"So she could die, and four months later, she's... and just loose in the world..."

Sam shook his head. "You're connected, right? Or you were? When she was in there, dead?"

Castiel looked back to Sam. "Yes. And it was starting. I only brought her back after Dean promised he'd destroy her if it wasn't Melissa."

Sam's mouth hung open in surprise. "It was less than twelve hours!"

"Not for her." Castiel said. "She was screaming, and the screams were... well, for lack of a better word, 'layered.' And then the screaming began to change."

Sam sat, dumbfounded. He ran a hand through his hair and over his face. "I, uh... I need to get some sleep, but Melissa should probably eat soon. Think you can help her out, try not to make her uncomfortable?"

"Don't worry, Sam. I didn't tell her the plan involved cutting away the scar tissue." Castiel said, picking up another book.

"Good, but that's not what I meant." Sam said. He shook his head. "Just wake me up if you need anything."

* * *

Melissa woke to a soft tapping on her door. She rolled over as it opened quietly.

Castiel came in quietly, carrying a plate and a cup of coffee.

Seeing that she was awake, he took it to the bedside table. "I hope this is right. I watched a video on YouTube. The eggs are solidified, as it instructed."

He set the plate down next to the remains of the broken lamp, and handed her the cup of coffee.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Castiel asked cautiously.

"Well, Sam told me not to use my laptop, or any social media, I can't call my kids, and anything involving the corporation, the charities, my church, all of it, is strictly off limits now that I'm 'dead,' so what am I supposed to do?" Melissa asked dryly.

"I can bring you a book, or help you to the library to choose one." Castiel offered.

Melissa shook her head, and set the cup down. "When does Dean get back?"

"It could be as early as late tomorrow, but he may need some time to prepare." Castiel said quietly. "And, I would need a new supply of grace. It took quite a bit to bring you back, and I'm not sure if you'll still be able to form any."

"Why wouldn't I be able to?" Melissa asked, grabbing a forkful of scrambled eggs, and eying then suspiciously.

"You may no longer be a Tzadik Nistar, now that a new one has been born to take your place."

Melissa dropped the fork back onto the plate in a cold anger that seemed to fill the room.

"So, my kids are gone, my dad is dead, I want nothing to do with Chase, don't even know if Leann knows I'm alive, my family's corporation, closest thing I had to a job is gone, my home is gone, charities are gone, church is gone, I'm stuck in this big cement hole in the ground with no connection to the outside world, no reason to live, except not to die, and now I'm not a saint, either... Anything else you want to take from me? Like hope? Maybe if I can't make any grace, maybe whatever your plan is won't work, and when I die, that's it, and I'm stuck forever?"

Castiel became more agitated internally as she spoke. Finally he shifted his weight, and spoke. "I'm sorry, Melissa, that this is happening to you, and that nothing I say or do has brought you any comfort. I will give you space, but I won't leave you, and I pray someday, that will matter to you."

Castiel walked out of the room, Crowley's words echoing in his mind.


	33. Chapter 33

(A/N: Poor Cas, got a bad combination of always getting inadvertently kicked around by the Winchesters, and being Winchester enough for unhealthy attachment.

There's some tough stuff in this one, bad-dream-2-second-non-con, unwanted contact of a semi sexual nature, and a bit with an angel blade to the throat. Please take care of your mental health. Even when you don't review, I see the views, I know you're reading, and I care!

Thanks for hanging with me through this story. FW)

* * *

" _...Whatever you had with her, it's gone. She will never come back to you, not in the way you want._ "

Castiel ran through a range of emotions as he walked through the halls. Rage toward Crowley was certainly close to the top of the list.

He sat down in the library, sparing little more than a passing glance at the medical texts. He knew they wouldn't do him any good. He was well aware of human anatomy, even at a microscopic level.

Castiel pulled his phone out of his pocket and considered contacting Dean, but he couldn't figure out what he would say about the situation. Melissa's complaints were genuine.

He put the phone away, and stacked the books, taking them to an empty shelf, knowing they could be useful for Dean to review when he returned.

* * *

The waitress came to the table with their coffees, and took out her notepad to take their order.

Dean motioned for Lita to go first, and the waitress turned to her, with a look of mild irritation.

"I'll have the strawberry pancakes, eggs over easy." Lita said, passing her the menu.

"Leave the bacon off, though, right?" she asked.

"Yes, please." Lita said.

The waitress turned to Dean, still looking like she was having a bad day.

"I'll get the steak and eggs, side of hashbrowns, extra crispy." Dean said, attempting to charm a smile out of the waitress.

"You want her order of bacon?" she asked, unimpressed.

"Nah, that's okay. I'm allergic to bacon." Dean said, throwing Lita a wink.

The waitress rolled her eyes and walked off.

"I don't care if people eat pork around me, you know. My friends do it all the time." Lita said, reaching for the sugar.

"So I'm not your friend?" Dean asked, pulling out his phone.

"No, you're just Agent Lee, with the nice red tie." she said sarcastically.

"And you're just a very normal girl who knows when folks aren't human... How's that work, anyway?" Dean said, sipping his coffee.

Lita shook her head, "I don't know how to explain that, I don't understand how other people don't see it."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Seems like a good skill to have."

"Skills are learned. This isn't something I learned, or something I can teach you how to do." Lita said.

"No, I get it. Saw a few demons' real faces myself, scary stuff." Dean sent a quick text, and put his phone away.

* * *

Sam picked up his phone from the nightstand and checked the time. He was still exhausted from riding all night, and it had only been about three hours, but it would be enough. He had run on far less.

He stretched as he stood, and headed for the kitchen, opening Dean's message, and sending a quick reply. 'I am now.'

The coffee in the pot had been sitting for a while, but it was still hot and drinkable. His phone buzzed again as he put the carafe back in place. He set the cup down and sent another message before grabbing his cup again and heading for the library.

Castiel was sitting at a table, looking through one of the oldest volumes in a language Sam didn't recognize.

Sam sat down and opened his laptop. "Found the coffee. I guess Melissa's still sleeping?"

"I don't know. I made some food and took it to her, but she has made it clear she wasn't want to see me." Castiel said quietly.

"All right, Dean asked me to see what I can find on Lita's family, but I'll go check on her first." Sam said, standing up again.

A few turned corners later, he knocked on her door. "Melissa?... You awake?"

Sam slowly opened the door, finding the room empty.

"Sam?"

He turned around to see her further down the hall, leaning on the wall, coming back from the bathroom slowly. She was clearly struggling, and Sam went straight to her, helping her walk. "So you got a lot further this time. That's good."

"Yeah, I guess I did. Moving faster, too." Melissa muttered, still using most of her effort to stay on her feet.

"Has Cas ever tried to heal your heart condition?" Sam asked as they moved slowly through the room.

"No, I don't think it ever came up." Melissa said. She sat down. "He's about out of power now, anyway."

Sam nodded, "It was worth it, we got you back... He said he had an idea about how to get rid of the scars on your back, did he talk to you about it?"

"He said he needs grace to do it, he needs Dean to help, and he didn't want to tell me how he plans on making this happen. But when he tried to heal them off me years ago, he said the extra stuff that healed into the wounds was deep, so I don't know, maybe he's got some kind of enchanted melon-baller." Melissa said, adjusting pillows and leaning back.

Sam chuckled, "That... actually, no, that wouldn't surprise me. But he told me a bit more, and, well, I don't think you want to hear the details. It's smart, though, I think he's got a good idea."

Sam noticed the nearly empty plate and coffee mug. "Are you going to be able to help him with the grace thing?"

Melissa made a face. "He thinks I might not be able to, because the next saint has been born, and I don't know. Right now, I don't even know if I want to try. I just want him to stay away from me."

Sam nodded. "It's your decision, of course. Just let me know if I can help, okay?"

"Mostly, I just need a nap." Melissa said quietly.

Sam nodded and grabbed the plate and coffee cup, and turned to leave the room. "What happened to your lamp, anyway?"

Melissa shrugged. "It fell on the floor."

"The metal looks melted." Sam said with a tone of disbelief.

"Look, it was on the nightstand, and then it was on the floor. Okay?" Melissa said tiredly.

"Okay. Nevermind." Sam said, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Dean paused in a conversation about country music to check his phone while he drove.

'Nothing special, real normal. They live in New York state'

Dean nodded at his phone on instinct and put it away.

"All right, I do like some Hank Williams Jr., but honestly, the call backs for Family Tradition? How am I supposed to participate in that?" Lita said. "I like Garth Brooks better."

"Garth Brooks, huh? Yeah, he has some good ones." Dean admitted.

"I really like Standing Outside the Fire, and The River." Lita said.

"No, no, you gotta go for the bar songs."

"Again with the bar songs." Lita rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling.

"You know them, you just don't want to admit it... C'mon..." Dean said, trying to get her to participate, as he started singing, faking a drunken drawl. "Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots, and ruined your black-tie affair..."

"I hate that one!" Lita said, laughing.

"No you don't.. Last one to know, last one to show, I was the last one you thought you'd see there." Dean continued.

Lita finally joined in, and Dean sent one more quick text as he waited at a red light, still singing along. 'Keep looking, need info on the hunter side of things'

* * *

Sam had come back to the library a couple of hours ago, and was straight into his laptop. Castiel was continuing to study the old book.

The small amount of grace left within him wasn't fading as fast as he thought it would. It carried traces of the strange texture that had occurred when Melissa had forced grace into him, and seemed more unruly, but perhaps stronger than the rest. He was looking for further information, concerning abstract issues grace could have, but he mostly found dead ends full of things he already knew, or knew to be false.

"Please..."

Castiel looked up. It took him a moment to realize Sam hadn't said anything.

"Castiel..." the voice came again.

He looked around the room for a moment before wandering down the hallway, thinking perhaps Melissa needed something. He doubted she'd be able to call for help loudly enough to be heard.

Outside her door, he could feel a pulse, very faint, moving in the air.

He knew she was likely to be asleep, and didn't want to wake her, so he opened the door quietly.

Melissa was asleep in the bed, curled into the soft covers and pillows. She slept deeply, and she was dreaming.

Wisps of red light came from her root chakra, which was more active than usual. Castiel was about to close the door and leave out of respect for her privacy, but remembering the involuntary forming of grace last time, he waited.

* * *

 _Warm... wet... soft... kissing her with a faint taste of honey... strong arms around her..._

 _She kept moving, grinding against Castiel, as he leaned back, biting his lip. She kept her movements slow and deliberate as she sat up, taking him in even deeper._

 _He ran his warm hands up her thighs, passing her hips, grasping her ribs and pulling her closer to kiss her again. She leaned down, meeting his lips and tongue with her own, running her fingers in his hair, as he moved to cup her breasts._

 _His fingers started to trace the fine black lines, and she froze._

 _It wasn't Castiel at all._

 _"What's the matter, darling?" Crowley purred, "Don't you want to be mine?"_

* * *

Melissa woke with a startled yelp. Castiel stood over her, one hand on her forehead, carrying the demeanor of a nurse.

"Melissa, you've formed some grace while you were sleeping, it needs a way out."

Melissa sat up with Castiel's help, shaking, feeling like she was running a high fever. "Were you making me dream that?"

"No. You prayed to me in your sleep, so I came to check on you." He ran his thumb down the side of the front of her neck, trying to get her throat chakra to turn.

"Stop touching me!" Melissa said, pushing his hand away. She was still physically turned on, and at the same time she felt disgusted by the turn her dream had taken.

Castiel pulled his hands away for a moment. "I'm sorry. I would rather have let you keep sleeping, but the grace is affecting your heart. You have to get rid of it."

Melissa avoided his eyes. "Melissa, it needs to come out, and as far as I know there are three ways for that to happen. You've managed to allow it out, and force it out, but the third involves a blade."

She could feel pressure building in her chest. A cold burning was building. "Just make it fast."

Castiel sat down on the bed. "I understand you probably feel violated, that's not my intention. I'll do as little as possible."

Melissa nodded, but had a difficult time relaxing. "How much did you see, anyway?"

"Of your dream?" Castiel asked to specify, as he reached to support her back in case she passed out.

"Yeah."

"Plenty. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, humans can't control their dreams. But this one came about due to grace, so please consider it carefully."

The burning pressure was becoming far more intense now. It also caused enough pain that Melissa no longer cared that Castiel had seen her dream, she just wanted the grace gone.

Castiel waited for the chakra to open, but it wasn't moving. "Melissa, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to help this along."

The pain was still building, and she gripped his shoulders tightly. "Just get it out of me."

Castiel put his mouth to her throat, kissing her gently as he had found effective in the past, and brought one of his hands to the base of her spine, slowly moving upward, transferring the movement to the subsequent locations. When his hand reached the back of her neck, the throat chakra began to turn, and he was able to access the grace, but it wasn't flowing as well as it always had before.

He pulled back enough to see a faint glow behind her eyes. Much more, and her eyes would be gone. Castiel put his mouth to her throat once more, tongueing at her delicate skin. The chakra turned slightly, then stopped.

"No... Melissa you have to force it out, I can't..."

"Make it stop!" She murmured in desperation.

Castiel had his blade in hand in a moment, thankful she couldn't see it at that time. "Please forgive me."

He pushed her down on the bed, had the cut made, and the blade put away in an instant, taking every bit of grace, and then immediately healing the wound.

"I'm very sorry, Melissa." He said, pulling away, wiping a trace of her blood from his lips.

"Can you just go?"

Castiel wasn't sure Melissa had even noticed the cut he caused. He stood and went back to the door, considering her dream.

Subconsciously, she still saw him in the context of a lover, and it was becoming apparent that at least part of her believed him that Crowley had been the one to mark her skin.

"The mark on your breast... if your dream is accurate, that is... it's Sumerian. Roughly translated, it means 'broken are the bonds of the holy ones.' It's very powerful because it's been drawn by the disintegrating feather of an angel." Castiel turned to look at her. "If your dream is accurate, I can remove it any time you choose."

He waited at the door, daring to hope she would respond, or request his assistance.

Melissa only rolled onto her side and said "I could use a glass of water."

Castiel did his best to hide his disappointment, nodding as he left the room. "Of course."


	34. Chapter 34

Chap 34

(A/ N: Consenting adults, y'all... Thanks for reading. FW)

* * *

'Not finding anything out of the ord. Why?'

Dean didn't reply, simply put his phone away.

"So, this cousin.. when does he get in?" Dean asked Lita.

"Actually, he might already be there." Lita said.

Dean searched her voice for any hints of concern, but found none. "Can I meet him?"

"Of course, I'm sure he'll want to thank you personally, and then probably talk shop." She shook her head. "You wouldn't believe how much you have in common."

"What's his name?" Dean asked, gleaning as much information as he could without sounding suspicious.

"Antonio."

Dean shot her a surprised look. "That doesn't sound... well..."

"He's not Muslim." Lita laughed. "Actually, most of his family are Catholic."

Dean shook his head. "I don't know what I was expecting."

"I told you, my family's from Spain. Lita isn't a Muslim name, either, it's a short form of Carlita." Lita said, shaking her head as well.

"Learn something new every day, huh...?" Dean was quiet for a few moments, before he turned to her again. "Listen, this old lady at the hotel last night, she said something, and maybe I'm some racist hick for bringing it up, but are you sure you're safe if you go back?"

Lita was speechless, her mouth hung open.

Dean looked at the road, them back to Lita, desperation on his face. "Just tell me you're not in danger of some kind of honor killing?"

"No! Dean, no. My family wouldn't do that! I barely got grounded for sneaking out as a teenager, and my dad saw my boyfriend in the back yard. And Antonio, he doesn't care, he's actually got some kind of poly relationship with his wife and girlfriend. No one is going to hurt me." Lita said, incredulous.

"I'm sorry." Dean said quietly. "I don't know a lot about this stuff, and that old lady really rattled me."

Lita rolled her eyes and stared out the window.

"Wait a minute... you snuck out, your dad saw your boyfriend in the back yard, and you barely got grounded?" Dean asked.

"I was a straight A student, they didn't have much to complain about." Lita responded with an even tone.

Dean shrugged, shaking his head. "Hey, I'm not judging... Just surprised after all that they'd disown you for going to college out of state."

"That's not the whole truth." Lita said. "A better description might be, they didn't want me involved with Antonio's group, they didn't want me picking up information on ghosts, demons, djinn, and all the other things I can see, and running off to Europe where they can't protect me. So I had an argument with my dad, and he said to just leave, because he couldn't stand to lose me twice."

Dean looked at her. "Twice?"

"Once, leaving home, and twice, if I get myself killed, getting involved with hunting." Lita explained.

Dean nodded. "You ever heard of a group called the Men of Letters?"

* * *

Sam walked into the kitchen, and nearly ran over Melissa. "Sorry. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's getting easier to move around."

"Cas said he was able to heal you some more, something about you can still make grace?" Sam asked, going for another cup of coffee.

"Looks like it. It was on accident, but that should mean voluntary should work, too, right?" Melissa said. "I don't think even he knows."

"I'm going to run into town, get you a new phone, pick up some stuff. You need anything?" Sam asked. "You, uh, got enough of your medication to last a while?"

Melissa nodded, "About a week's worth."

"Okay." Sam said, "maybe we can take the time to forge the prescription by then."

Melissa looked at the floor as Sam left the room.

* * *

Castiel had named a few of Melissa's favorite foods for Sam's grocery list, and supplied the keys to the rental car. It wasn't long before Melissa wandered into the library.

Castiel looked up, not speaking, noticing Melissa had changed into a different sun dress, one he recognized from her own wardrobe, red, with a halter tied behind her neck.

"Can you heal my heart condition enough that I won't need the pills?" Melissa asked rather directly from the edge of the room.

"I can make an attempt." Castiel said quietly.

"I don't want them stealing and forging things to keep me alive." Melissa replied. "It's not right. Not fair to anyone."

Castiel closed the book, and pulled a stray newspaper over it. "I don't have enough grace to do it right now, but I do want to help. Would you be willing to attempt it in meditation?"

"I'll have to get back to doing it anyway, to get the scars off later, right? May as well start now." She came closer to where Castiel sat.

Castiel stood, and turned to sit on the table as she approached him.

"Same as when we started, right?" Melissa asked, her concern apparent in her voice.

"I take it you mean prior to when we..." Melissa nodded in response. "Yes. If that's what you want."

Melissa hesitated, but brought her hands up to Castiel's shoulders. Castiel let his hands hang awkwardly at his sides, trying to stay in keeping with the boundaries Melissa needed.

She began to sway slightly as she went into her meditative trance. The swaying got a little more intense and he lifted one hand to her hip to steady her.

"Don't..." she breathed.

Castiel let his hand fall.

Melissa was clearly struggling. Castiel could see the colors and lights of her chakras, her soul, moving in a strange dance to the rhythm of her hopes and dreams, but everything was out of step. He had just enough grace left after healing her to feel the twinge in her side.

He watched her brow furrow, and slight shakes of her head as she tried to focus. After several minutes, her eyes snapped open. "I can't."

She let her hands fall from his shoulders. Castiel didn't say anything, but he felt desperate to have her touch back. She turned away for a moment, rubbing at her face. "What if it's only involuntary now?"

Castiel considered the implications. "Then we will find some other way."

Melissa turned back to him. "How?"

Castiel wasn't sure how to answer her, but he wasn't expecting her to come closer and start kissing him. After a few seconds of surprise and confusion, he relaxed and began to kiss back, gently and patiently. He could feel something stirring within her, and put his hand on her upper arm to push her back slightly.

"Is it working?" She asked.

"Melissa, please, don't do this. It isn't what you want." Castiel whispered.

"You said you'd help me. I need you to help me. Please... I can't die with these scars again." Melissa's voice broke on the last words.

Castiel shook his head, pushing her further away. "This isn't right."

"Why should you get to decide what's right for me?" Melissa asked, her normally hidden fierceness showing through.

Castiel's voice came out far harsher than he meant as he stepped further away from the table. "Because I care for you. Because I won't mistreat you, even if you ask me to, nor will I allow you to use me to mistreat yourself. Because whether or not you are being controlled by a pattern drawn on your skin by a feather you pulled from my wing, I am still very much involved."

Melissa dropped into the chair Castiel had vacated. "...You still want to take that mark off of me?"

Castiel turned to face her. "Yes... please, Melissa, let me try."

Melissa studied his face. "You really didn't do this."

Castiel stared into her eyes, quiet rage boiling beneath them. "No."

Melissa pushed her hair back over her shoulder, "Okay."

Castiel stepped closer, taking her hand and pulling her gently to rise from the chair. She stood perfectly still as he untied the soft wide straps behind her shoulders. He left the left one where it was, and brought the one on her right forward to hang down from the top of the bodice, slowly slipping his fingers into the edge of the fabric, against her skin. He moved slowly, as if he was afraid to startle her.

Delicately, he pulled the edge of the bodice down to expose the design, and as little else as possible. Leaving the fabric where it was, he turned his hand to cover the design.

Castiel wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but instead of a fast, simple touch to make it disappear, he dragged his fingertips over it, and healed her slowly with the touch of a lover. The pulse of warmth and the cool silky chill that followed made her grasp at his trench coat to keep her balance, and elicited a moan and heavier breathing from her.

Despite her reaction, Castiel gripped the cloth and pulled it back up, covering her, and took hold of the strap, guiding it up her chest, behind her neck, reaching to tie it to the other one.

Melissa reached up, taking his hands before he could make a knot, and pulled them down, bringing them around her waist, the straps on her dress forgotten.

The realization on her face was unmistakable. "Castiel... I'm sorry I didn't believe y-"

He bent forward, capturing her mouth with his own. He could feel the deep storm of emotions within her, in stark contrast to the pure relief he felt.

Melissa kissed him harder, and pressed him back toward the table, working frantically at his tie and buttons. She quickly gave up as he leaned back against the table and pulled her legs up around his hips, slipping his hands under her skirt.

He tightened his grip on one of her thighs when she nipped his lip and moved to his neck, making her moan.

"I missed this..." she said, tugging at his clothes.

Castiel could feel her chakras moving in a careful connection with what was left of his grace. He brought his hand to the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, causing a reaction in her crown chakra. The violet light flowed against his hand, and spun comfortably in place.

Melissa pressed him down against the table. "I don't want to wait."

Castiel nodded as he leaned back, "I understand. I can feel it... I know you need this."

He ran his hand further up her thigh as she worked at his pants. He found her skin bare, her folds nearly dripping. She stopped, kissing him as he continued to touch her, swallowing her moans.

He brought his hand away as she pulled him free from his clothing, taking hold of her hips and guiding her forward, murmuring his assurances to her.

Castiel wasn't prepared for the feeling of her hot, wet body taking him in. She threw her head back with a strained moan as her body settled around him. His fingers tangled in her hair and skirt, as he gasped. His muscles tried to thrust, but he had no purchase with his legs hanging off the edge of the table.

As Melissa began to rock against his hips, Castiel's hands wandered to her ribs. She pulled her dress down, guiding his hands to her breasts as she continued to move, picking up speed.

Castiel could feel it when the energy started to shift. He looked down to confirm it, and the red light near the base of her spine was moving differently. Only this time, so was the violet light, flowing downward. If he didn't rush her, they would meet in her heart chakra again.

"Faster..." he said around a moan. "It's grace... you have to finish quickly."

"But... you..." Melissa tried to speak through her panting.

"Mmmnn, no.. faster... We can keep going after." Castiel said, trying to rock against her, as her frantic movements bounced her flesh in his hands. "Please... let me feel you..."

Melissa curled forward, grinding against him, clawing at his still clothed torso, tightening around his hard length, burying her mouth and nose against the skin of his neck before arching herself upright in bliss. Castiel bolted forward, taking his mouth directly to the front of her neck.

Castiel let go of her breasts, pulling her frame tightly against him as she continued to thrust against his lap, to be sure she wouldn't fall. He felt every wave her flesh made, pulling at his skin within her. Every tightened muscle.

He took every bit of grace out of her, praying out his thanks that this time didn't require a blade.

Melissa shook against his body as she started to come down from her wordless screams. Castiel laid back down on the table gently, taking her with him, her spent form cradled on his chest. His arms still around her, his throbbing member still sheathed to the hilt.

Castiel was content to hold her, feeling the grace she had given him still carrying the traces of her orgasm.

"Castiel..." Melissa said, her voice a hushed tone. "You want to keep going?"

Castiel was about to answer her, but he heard the sound of the bunker door beginning to open. He clutched her tightly.

A moment later he had them in the shower, door locked, clothes abandoned on the floor, Melissa's back pressed firmly to the tile wall, her legs still wrapped around his hips. He used his grace to start the water, dropping his mouth to the side of her neck.

He adjusted her weight, finding a better height at which he could thrust.

Melissa gasped, and rocked against him, ready to continue, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. Warm water pooled between them, running over them both.

His thrusts built in strength and urgency, and a much smaller amount of grace was gathering. This one only in her throat chakra. He kissed her deeply to quiet her, still holding tight to the backs of her thighs.

He was getting close, and manipulated her flesh only slightly, bringing her to the same speed. He nudged her chin up, moving his mouth across her throat once again, only this time as he came, moaning roughly and slowly sinking to his knees as she tightened around him once more, feeling his heat, and stifling a scream by gently biting at the flesh of his shoulder.

Castiel barely kept himself focused enough to collect the grace before the chakra closed, shuddering.

He pulled back to look at the woman in his arms, then pulled her closer for a gentle kiss as the water continued to fall on their entwined bodies.


	35. Chapter 35

Sam went down the stairs, heading for the kitchen, but stopped for a moment when passing the archway to the library.

A few books and a newspaper had fallen off one of the tables.

He kept his guard up as he moved to the kitchen, not sure what to expect. There seemed to be a change in the air.

* * *

Castiel nuzzled against Melissa's neck for a moment before he began to untangle from her.

Both leaning on the wall, they managed to get back to their feet, breathing still quickened by the exertion.

He pulled her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth before embracing her, pulling her wet hair aside to look down at the scars patterned down the right side of her back. His fingers touched the raised surfaces delicately. "It won't be much longer."

* * *

The Impala swung to the side of the road, parallel parking on the calm suburban street.

Dean shifted to park, and looked over to Lita. She looked concerned.

"That's my dad..." she said.

"Where?" Dean asked.

Lita pointed to the front porch two houses down. "Right there, with Antonio. I told him not to call..."

Dean nodded, and turned to face her directly. "Look, I'm gonna level with you: I don't know the guy, never met him, but I lost my dad. He died years ago, saving my life. My dad was an asshole, to be honest, but if I could get just one more day with him, I'd take it... that said, you don't have to do this, I'll take you back to Robertsville, if that's what you want... But I don't think he came all this way just to meet up with your cousin."

Lita looked into Dean's eyes for a moment before leaning forward, and pressing a kiss to his lips before grabbing her purse and getting out of the car.

Dean sat, watching her with what he was sure was a dumb expression, until a few feet from the hood, she motioned, beckoning him to follow.

As she passed shrub at the edge of the neighbor's yard, the older of the two men on the porch caught sight of her, and cut his conversation short, coming down the steps.

He met her in the middle of the yard, paying no mind to Dean, who held back. He caught her face with both hands, kissing her forehead and knocking her hijab loose on accident before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and rocking slightly. Dean couldn't make out what Lita's father was saying, but he was sure he'd be able to make an accurate guess.

A short time later, inside the house, Dean sat uncomfortably on a sofa as an older woman with dark eyes wearing a rosary passed him a cup of coffee. He took it, thanking her with a small smile.

"You get kidnapped by demons, you get free, and the first person you call is Antonio?" Lita's father said loudly in the kitchen.

Antonio sat down in a close by armchair, "So, you her boyfriend, then?"

"No," Dean chuckled. "No, just a hunter."

"Hijab threw you off, huh?" Antonio asked, smirking.

"A little, I guess." Dean admitted.

Lita was loudly reminding her father of things he had said as she left for college.

"Don't worry about her dad, he's just glad she's okay. He won't give you any trouble. Unless you make her cry, anyway. Poor girl got stood up for the prom, the guy shows up a week later to take her out, he yells at the kid and makes him apologize to her." Antonio laughed, "It was pretty brutal, but that guy was a jerk."

Lita's voice came from the kitchen again, "He's not my boyfriend, dad!"

Lita's father walked into the room as Dean and Antonio looked up. He said something in Spanish and Antonio shook his head. The older man turned to Dean. "I'm sorry about all the yelling. This has been a rough couple of days for me... Thank you, for keeping my daughter safe."

"Of course," Dean answered. "I'm just glad to know she's got a family to get back to. Some folks I've helped haven't been so lucky."

Dean shot a guilty look at Lita, who was leaning in the kitchen doorway, her scarf far looser than usual, a bit of her hair showing.

"I don't know if she sees it that way." he replied quietly. "She's decided from here she's going straight to Europe to hunt monsters."

"I'm not hunting, dad! I'm doing what I can to support the ones who are!" Lita said.

"You can't tell me you aren't going to hunt. You know what these things are when you see them. That's why you were taken, isn't it?"

Lita looked at the floor. He father turned back to Dean. "Lita is a brilliant young woman with a fine mind, and a terrible gift. I hate to think your efforts have been wasted, but she's not likely to stop running into danger any time soon. She does what she pleases, she always has... What else can I do, huh?"

Dean shrugged. "Train her? Give her a weapon?"

Lita shook her head. Antonio burst out laughing. "We tried that. She won't do it, she's too much a pacifist."

"I give up." her father said, "She's going to Europe. I can't stop that. She won't learn to fight, she's like that Mister Rogers, wants to believe the best of everyone..."

"I wish I had that kind of faith in people." Dean said softly.

Lita's father turned in his chair to face her. "Will you at least come home and see your mother before you go? Please?"

Lita looked up and nodded.

Not much later, she walked Dean back to the Impala. He passed her a slip of paper.

"What's this?" She asked.

"My email. And my number. Well, numbers, three of 'em." Dean said. "I just figure it might be good to be able to get in touch with other hunters, you know, or maybe if you get bored in Spain and come back for a visit or something."

Lita chuckled, "Right. I'm sure that's why."

Dean smiled slightly and pulled her scarf to cover more of her hair. "Okay, fine, I need to know you're okay, okay? So just let me know when you get settled. And if it's been three months, and I don't hear from you... Please don't make me get on a plane, I hate flying."

Lita smiled and nodded. "I won't make you get on a plane... Thanks for convincing me to talk to my father."

Dean gave her a quick hug, and watched her walk back to the yard. After she was out of earshot, he muttered to himself just before he got in the car. "I would so give up bacon for you."

* * *

Castiel was sitting in the library once again when Dean came down the stairs, some time after Melissa and Sam had both turned in for the night.

"Burning the midnight oil, huh, Cas?"

"Research. Blood vessels and lungs are very delicate items." Castiel said, not looking up from the book until Dean came close enough to see it himself as he set his bag on the table.

"Yeah, gross and gooey, too." Dean muttered. "What's the case?"

Castiel looked Dean in the eyes. "Your sister... We need to talk, Dean."

"Crap." Dean said, sitting down. "She's still avoiding you?"

"No, that issue has resolved. Very well, in fact-"

Dean cut him off, "So what's wrong?"

"The scars on her back. I've found a way we may be able to remove them." Castiel said, avoiding his eyes. "I'll need your help."

Dean nodded. "Okay, what do you need?"

Castiel swallowed, not something he usually did. "I'm very sorry to have to ask this of you, Dean... I need you to physically remove the scar tissue. I'll keep her unconscious and relieve the pain while I heal her in bursts, replacing the muscle and skin with new flesh."

Dean's face had fallen as Castiel spoke, and he shook slightly, as it became apparent what was being asked of him.

"I'll understand your reaction, Dean. The scarring runs too close to her lung, there's a risk of puncture. Sam doesn't have the experience you do, or I would ask him. He already knows, if you want to speak to him about it, but Melissa may not be able to handle hearing the details."

Dean leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He wanted to bury his face in his hands, but all he could do was stare at them.

For ten years, he had tortured souls, and sometimes he could still feel the blood between his fingers.

"You want me to pick up a knife... and carve into her, my sister, the way my dad did, and not even tell her what's happening?" Dean's voice broke. "For her own good, right?"

"Dean, this is not the same. Not at all." Castiel reached for his shoulder. "This would be to help her, and with her consent."

Dean shook Castiel's hand off his shoulder and stood quickly, picking up his bag, and making a rapid pace toward his room. "I can't do this."

Castiel got up immediately and followed him. "Dean, wait."

Dean kept walking. "I'm sorry, I can't."

Castiel caught up to him and grabbed his upper arm, not far from where he had caught hold of him in the middle of torturing someone in Hell years before.

The abrupt contact made Dean drop his bag, but Castiel didn't stop walking, dragging his friend further down the hall.

Castiel rounded a corner and stopped at Melissa's door, letting go of Dean, and motioned for him to stay quiet. He turned the knob and gently pressed the door open, revealing the room.

The light was on and a small antique radio from some dusty corner of the bunker was tuned to an AM talk station, despite the late hour, and Melissa was asleep, rolled tightly in her blankets.

Dean wasn't sure what Castiel's point was, but from the doorway, his eyes were glued to Melissa's face.

He had noticed sometimes, when Sam was asleep, his face completely relaxed, that in his features he could see traces of the face Sam had had as a small child, and now he wondered what Melissa had looked like then.

Dean turned back to Castiel as Castiel pulled it shut again, and guided him back down the hall the way they had come. "She is terrified now, of darkness, silence, and being alone. That's why as she was coming out of it, she couldn't let go of you. Her other senses were dulled, most of her mind was still there, experiencing complete emptiness. If it happens again... Even temporarily... Her fear will likely consume her, turning her into something unrecognizable, and very powerful. And then, she'll get loose."

Castiel was suddenly holding Dean's bag, reaching it out to him as they reached Dean's bedroom. "Please consider what I've told you, and we can speak about it again in the morning."

He recognized the broken look inside Dean's eyes as he took the bag, and went through the door.

* * *

Sam wandered into the kitchen fairly early, finding Dean at the table with a cup of coffee, still in his robe.

"Hey, when'd you get in?" Sam asked.

"About 4 a.m." Dean replied.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"No... Not after talking to Cas."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I knew that wasn't going to be easy for you to hear. Sorry. I thought you'd be back later, I was going to try to talk to you about it."

"Tell me you don't agree with this." Dean said firmly.

Sam's body language became defensive. "I was against it, at first. But she doesn't have a lot of options... Cas has been trying to get dad's makeshift curse off of her for years, he can't do it, and he can't keep her knocked out, heal her, and cut the scars out too."

Dean shook his head. "No... C'mon, Sam, cutting it out of her? And he said not to talk to her about it."

"You think she's going to take it well if one of us, or even Cas says, 'Hey, let's just slice these out of you, so you can die like a normal person?'" Sam asked, trying to keep his voice down.

"Yeah, why not strap her down to a table while you're at it, just like dad did?" Dean blurted, his voice full of frustration.

"Good morning, Sam." Castiel's voice came from the doorway.

Dean put his elbow on the table, and rested the side of his face in his palm, shading his eyes with his fingers, shaking his head.

"It might be for the best if this discussion was quieter." Castiel commented.

Sam shrugged, getting back to the task of fixing his own coffee. "Sorry."

Dean slammed his hand down on the table and jumped out of his chair, disappearing through the doorway.

* * *

Melissa woke to the feeling of fingers gently twisting in her hair.

"You haven't been sleeping deeply. You're not resting well." Castiel's deep voice was quiet in the still room.

She rolled over, curling close against him, where he lay fully dressed on top of the blankets.

"It'll get easier. Maybe I'll go for a walk today, get some fresh air, balance out the melatonin and all." she murmured.

"You don't have a sufficient amount to balance it. There are good reasons for humans to sleep in the dark." Castiel said softly.

Melissa shook her head against him.

"I'll get you a working lamp from one of the unused rooms." Castiel offered. "It won't be as healthy for you as having the light off, but it will be better than this."

Melissa shifted to lay on her back, the dark circles under her eyes more obvious.

"Thank you for stopping me yesterday... you were right, I didn't want to do that... Not like that, anyway... after, I did... At the time, I just didn't see any way around it." Melissa said softly.

"Dean is back." Castiel said, putting an arm around her. "He needs some time, though. What I've asked him to do will be very difficult for him."

"Then maybe he shouldn't do it."

"I don't trust anyone else with this."

"What about Sam?"

"No. I trust Sam completely, but there's a certain skill, a training Dean received... He spent a decade doing this, he's very practiced. Sam is not."

"So, he was a doctor or something? Or is this a spell?" Melissa asked.

"Melissa, please, don't ask. And I don't recommend speaking to him about this. He may approach you, but I promise you, it's a conversation that will only upset you both."

"You don't want to tell me how you're doing this, you don't want to tell me what Dean was doing that makes him right for helping you, anything you do want to tell me?"

Castiel inched his face close to her ear and whispered.

"That sounds pretty, but I don't speak 'angel.'" Melissa said.

Castiel smiled. "It loses something from Enochian, but a rough translation would be, 'I enjoy the resumption of the sharing of flesh with honeybee.'"

"Honeybee?"

"Your name is Greek in origin and means honeybee." Castiel explained. "I'm very fond of bees, you can ask your brothers."

* * *

Sam waited until Dean had to reload before walking into the firing range.

"Come to talk me into that bullshit plan, Sammy?" Dean asked, popping bullets into his magazine.

"No. I don't have to. Eventually you'll cave." he said, coming through the door and leaning his back against the wall.

"Why's that?"

"It's the only way to help her."

Dean slid the magazine home and racked it before setting it down on the bench. "You don't know that."

"I know if there was some foreign object in my body, something that would do that to me, you'd cut it out of me in a heartbeat. You've stitched me up, pulled bullets out of me, gotten covered in my blood, and it doesn't faze you. You don't even hesitate. So don't tell me you can't do this."

"This is different!" Dean barked.

"How?... Because dad did this?... Because of how he did it?... How do the circumstances, which you weren't even around for, change whether or not you help her?" Sam yelled.

"I want to help, believe me, but this, this is... She's a mess from it, Sam! And that's a mess I can relate to. Dad did to her what I did to people in Hell... He was there almost a hundred years, and he wouldn't pick up a blade to get off the rack, but he'd do this, _this!._.. and not to total strangers, but to his own child!... God, I feel sick..." Dean said, rubbing his forehead and leaning, facing the wall near Sam.

"I'm not here to convince you, Dean... I want to help." Sam said, standing, turning to his brother. "The only reason I was against it in the first place was because I knew what this would do to you. So, what can I do to make this easier?"

"I told you everything, a long time ago..." Dean said, shaking his head.

"You mean when you said that you got to the point where you liked it?" Sam said quietly. "That's not you. The guy I know, who held that poor girl for the better part of two hours so she wouldn't feel alone, even though it made him uncomfortable... That's who you are. You're not some sadistic bastard that's going to regress to who you were during forty years in Hell."

"What happens if I go too far?" Dean questioned, more for himself than Sam. "What if I cut into her, and for some reason, Cas can't heal her?... What if something happens and she wakes up on the table like she did when dad was putting those scars there in the first place?"

Sam's brow furrowed. "What? Did she tell you about it?"

Dean shook his head. "No, she, um... she fell, tore her shirt, and I saw the scars. She was struggling when most of those cuts were made, they're jagged, and they didn't heal well, because she probably hid them. Cas said that dad put something in the cuts, that's why he can't undo it."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I really hope this is the last time you get called on to clean up one of dad's messes, but we can't leave her like this." Sam pulled Dean into a tight hug. "I'll be right there, I'll help you with anything you need to get this done, and if you're scared you'll snap, I'll be watching for that, too. But we have to have your help on this one, and you know it."

Sam pulled back, his hands on Dean's arms.

"She can't feel it... She can't feel it, and she can't wake up. I need to know that's not going to happen. I can't make her go through that again... Cas has to focus on healing her, we need a back up plan... If she wakes up, I'm out."

Sam nodded, "I'll find a way to make sure it happens."


	36. Chapter 36

(A/ N: This one is rough and bloody. And long. But you know what's coming.

Please take care of your mental health. Lots of love, thanks for reading! FW)

* * *

A few days later, Sam sat in the library, his laptop open, medical books strewn about, and two long lists on the table. It was getting late, and Dean and Melissa were in the kitchen, loudly trading yo-mama jokes. Sam was certain as the raucous laughter increased, a bottle of something had to have been opened, and was probably half gone.

Castiel joined him. "What are these?"

"That one," Sam said, pointing, "Is what we have in the lab. The other one is what we need to get. Aside from, y'know, an actual anesthesiologist."

"We could kidnap one, but Melissa would likely object." Castiel said, looking over the lists. "It's better if you do it."

"Cas, anesthesia is dangerous stuff. That's why they have a whole separate doctor to handle it when they put someone under for surgery." Sam objected.

"I will be focused on healing her. Healing her may interfere with the anesthesia, but keeping the anesthesia available as plan b is good."

Castiel passed the inventory list back to Sam, tucking the other into his coat. "There's a recently closed hospital in Grand Rapids that has equipment stored. I'll have the rest in the lab by morning."

Sam nodded. "I have to get some sleep, try to get those two to drink some water, or they'll be hungover."

Sam had barely finished speaking when a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Melissa's voice. "I told you not to climb it."

"I'll see to your siblings, Sam. Goodnight." Castiel walked out of the room quickly, following the sound of another round of synchronized hushing and laughter.

* * *

Castiel stood in the doorway of the kitchen, not entirely sure he understood why Dean was on the floor in front of the refrigerator, but Melissa was silently laughing too hard to speak from her spot at the table.

"Cas... gimme a hand, I wanna try that again." Dean said, sitting up slowly.

"That's not a good idea, Dean. And we may need you to be functional tomorrow." Castiel said firmly.

"Why's'at?" Dean slurred, getting to his feet.

Castiel glanced at Melissa, who was calming down. Dean looked to her, and suddenly his smile was gone. "Yeah, okay."

Melissa looked back and forth between them. "What? What happened to Spider-man looking for where Sam hides the oreos? That was awesome."

Dean chuckled half-heartedly. "That was awesome, but, I think I busted up my back on that last attempt. Maybe we should call it a night."

Melissa shook her head a little too hard. "C'mon, you said we were gonna try out that Letters hooch Sam doesn't know about."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, we'll do that, tomorrow night, okay? If you're up to it. No hurry. It's not gonna go bad one more night on the shelf."

Melissa got to her feet, stepping lightly, and started to giggle, as she made her way to lean on Castiel. "Yo mama..."

"Don't talk about my mama, bitch." Dean said, chuckling.

"Yo mama's so fat, she walked by the tv and I missed a whole season."

Dean laughed, "Yo mama's so ugly... no, actually, I can't. I can't.. She was really pretty..."

"Yeah," Melissa said, "Sorry... yours too, that was a really nice picture you showed me. I wish I had pictures..."

"You mean like with dad?" Dean slurred.

"Yeah... no, wait, you know what, no... fuck no... Nevermind." Melissa said. "I had a different dad... You would have liked him. Rich... He was a good person. Used to braid my hair in pigtails before I went to school..."

"I'm glad you had that. Really." Dean said, turning to Castiel. "Okay, I guess everyone needs to get ready for a full day tomorrow, huh?"

Castiel nodded.

* * *

Melissa began to stir, and immediately regretted it. She was about to open her eyes when a set of soft lips met her own, and her headache was gone.

"Mmn. You do that for Dean's hangover too?" Melissa asked, stretching.

"I don't believe he'd appreciate that type of contact from me." Castiel said dryly, slipping his hand out of her hair.

"What you said last night, are we really going to try this today?" Melissa asked, sitting up.

Castiel nodded. "We have a plan, and there's no reason it shouldn't work. But Sam says you'll need to do this on an empty stomach."

"Okay. I'm not really hungry, anyway."

Castiel looked at the thin fabric of her shirt. It was snug enough that the scars interrupted the design in a nearly imperceptible way.

"May I look them over, again?" Castiel asked, placing a hand on the side of her back that bore no markings.

"Knock yourself out. They'll be gone soon." Melissa said, peeling off her shirt. She lay down again, bringing her right side closer to him.

Castiel ran his hand along the clear side of her back, feeling the smooth, soft skin, while looking at the side that had designs both raised and sunken. Certain there was no way he could become more familiar with the flesh that needed to be removed, he pulled at her to hint that she should roll over toward him.

She complied, and looked up into his eyes, seemingly waiting on another kiss. He tried not to let his eyes roam over her bare breasts as he put an arm over her.

"Melissa, I need to make sure you understand... There are risks to removing the scars. If something goes wrong, however unlikely, death is a possibility."

"But they'll be gone, and I can die without being stuck, right?" Melissa asked.

Castiel nodded.

"I'm okay with that." She said softly. "How full are your batteries?"

Castiel looked away, attempting to distract himself. "Not exactly full. But I don't want you to overdo it."

"You could overdo it to me." Melissa said with a smirk. "I'd feel safer knowing you're on a full charge, anyway."

Castiel covered her mouth with his own, quickly slipping his hand into the blanket. He followed the feel of her bare skin into the waistband, finding her tight curls and sinking his fingers between her lips. He gently spread her open with his thumb and smallest finger, pressing the other three inside, his hand giving off a glow below the blanket.

She moaned, writhed, and clutched at his clothes as his grace purposefully activated her nerves. He curled his fingers to give gentle pressure as his mouth continued to devour her every sound. He flexed his palm against her as her body shook and thrashed, pulling at him, her breaths broken.

Her loudest screams completed, he broke away from her mouth, taking the moderate amount of grace from her throat, continuing his firm, slow motions as she came down from her earth shattering ecstasy.

Melissa was still breathing heavily as she made an attempt to burrow against him. She managed to get a hand inside of his shirt, still running in her primal mind.

Castiel quieted her. "Melissa... let's just stay like this for a little while."

Still breathless, she moved her hand up to the skin on his chest and lay back. He put his head down on her shoulder, leaving his hand where it was.

* * *

Dean walked into the lab, a half full bottle of water in one hand, and a full one in the other.

Sam was sitting next to a metal rolling cart, looking at a manual, and studying the gauges on the side.

"You know how all this stuff works?" Dean asked, trying to sound tough, but his voice gave away a nervous tone.

"Basically. But this is all just a backup plan, we can't run these while Cas is healing her, he might undo the anesthesia on accident." Sam said, sitting up.

"Then what happens?" Dean asked, looking at a large tank of gas.

"I ran through this whole plan with Cas, he's going to knock her out so she doesn't feel the needle, then I'll put in the starter piece for the I.V., and get an air tube down her throat. He'll know if anything goes wrong, and it'll all be in place ready to go if he can't keep her out for some reason."

"If we have to use this stuff to keep her out, what if I take a chunk off her, and he can't heal her?"

Sam stood up. "We don't have a way to plan for that, Dean. We just have to cross our fingers. Now you said what you needed, she can't wake up, and she can't feel it. That's covered. But there's no way this was ever going to be easy."

Dean nodded, continuing to look over the instruments. "I don't know if I can use this stuff."

"Cas said he didn't want to get started just yet, so if you think you can do better with something else, it's time to get it ready." Sam said, moving the cart closer to the table.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I guess it's better if I've got something more familar, right? Something I've got practice with?... I'm going to sharpen the demon knife."

Sam looked up. "Ruby's knife?... You're gonna use that?"

"Yeah, well, I can't make any mistakes today, Sammy." Dean said, walking out.

 _'And if this goes wrong, she won't be coming back...'_ He thought gravely.

* * *

Dean shoved another bite of his toaster pastry into his mouth, and continued to sharpen the blade as he chewed. He knew it had been nearly half an hour, and it didn't seem to be making it any sharper.

He ran it down a piece of paper, separating it into pieces easily, no hint of a snag anywhere on the edge.

He knew the weapon was ready. He wasn't so sure about himself.

Melissa came into the library. "Hey. You're not hung over, are you?"

"Nah, I'm good," Dean said, faking a smile, and reaching for his water.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing out the knife.

"That... that is an ancient, Kurdish demon-killing tool."

"Looks sharp." she said, sitting down.

"Yeah, I hope so." Dean said, trying not to sound serious, but failing. "Hate to think what would happen if it wasn't."

Dean popped the rest of his pastry into his mouth as Castiel entered the room. He gestured to the table. "I see you're preparing."

Dean just about choked. "What?"

"Eating to keep your energy up is wise. I hope Sam did the same."

Dean nodded, and looked back to Melissa. She was still looking at the knife on the table.

"I can't do this. Not like this." Dean said. "You have to know."

"Dean, don't." Castiel warned.

Sam came through the archway just in time to catch the tension. "What's going on?"

"You said she's okay with this, but how can she be okay with it if she doesn't know how it's going to happen?" Dean said.

"Dean, can we talk about this somewhere else?" Sam asked quickly.

Dean shook his head and started to open his mouth.

"Maybe," Melissa said loudly, getting out of her chair. "I don't want to hear it. Pretty sure I know what you're going to do, okay? But hearing it, that makes it too real. I don't want to hear something that's going to make me think twice about trusting you. Any of you. You're trying to help me, I know that, that's what I want to focus on."

She picked up the knife by the back of the blade, holding the handle out to Dean. "Please... if you care, please don't say a goddamn thing. I'd rather never know. But I trust you to help me."

Dean nodded sadly, and reached for the handle. The moment he took it, Castiel stepped behind Melissa, bringing his hand up to her neck, knocking her out and catching her as Dean took the knife.

Castiel scooped up her limp body, and addressed Dean. "I'll understand if you need a moment, but please join us shortly. I'll be helping Sam."

Dean nodded, and looked at his brother. Sam threw him a look of sympathy and regret, likely considering their rather messed up lives, before turning to follow Castiel.

* * *

Sam supported Melissa's head and shoulders as Castiel put her down on the table.

"Okay, I should be able to get the saline lock in, but..." Sam handed him the tools to get her intubated. Castiel took them with a nod and moved to stand at her head as Sam picked up a needle and alcohol wipe and approached her arm.

Castiel opened her mouth and slipped the placement blade into her throat, guiding the tube in carefully. He pulled the blade out as Sam stood up.

"Did it work?" Sam asked.

"Yes, her airway is being held open, and she wasn't injured by the placement."

"Okay... that covers everything but local, just make sure you're really clear about it if you're not keeping up, that way I can get this stuff moving right away." Sam said, reaching for the heart rate monitor.

Castiel waited while Sam finished double checking everything was functional and ready to start.

"Okay, I found the head piece for this table, we'll turn her over, and it'll slide into place around the tube." Sam said picking up one more piece of equipment, but he froze where he was, looking at the doorway.

Dean stood there, looking shaken. "I guess we're about ready, then, since she's got tubes sticking out of her."

"It would have been far less intrusive if you didn't require them." Castiel said with a hint of attitude.

"Yeah, well..." Dean said, gesturing to Melissa with the knife. He looked as though he immediately regretted the action, and hung his head. "I guess we should sterilize this thing?"

Dean held the knife out sideways, waiting for one of them to take it. Castiel simply held a hand out toward it for a moment, before turning back to the table.

Castiel slowly rolled Melissa's body over, and held her head in place as Sam installed the head piece around the tube.

Sam stood upright again and turned to Dean, "We're ready... Can you do this?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah... I don't want to, but I can... I guess I should wash up, huh?"

"That won't be necessary, Dean, I can sterilize your hands." Castiel answered.

"As long as that's the only part of me." Dean muttered, moving to the side of the table.

Sam added a long arm to the table, using two straps to hold Melissa's right arm out to the side.

"Do we really have to do that?" Dean asked, pain obvious in his voice.

"You're cutting into muscle, it might cause movement... We don't want to take any chances, right?" Sam replied, moving to sit on a stool by Melissa's head.

"Okay... are we missing anything?" Dean asked, looking at the large, deep stainless steel tray on an otherwise empty cart next to him.

Castiel motioned him closer, and reached over Melissa's back, passing his hands over Dean's, causing a cold electric tingle. He looked up, meeting Dean's eyes. "She's out, Dean. She won't be aware of any of this. I promise."

Dean nodded, swallowing hard, and pulled the edge of her shirt up, exposing the scars. For a moment, it occurred to him, he was standing in the same place his father had, ready to cut into the same flesh, of the same flesh and blood.

Dean shook his head, putting his hand down on the same design he'd willingly had tattooed on his own skin, muttering. "God, how could he do this...?"

"Dean?..." Sam said firmly. "You gotta stay focused."

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. "Heal her in chunks, right?... How big?"

Castiel held up his first finger and thumb about an inch apart. "Start small, and we'll adjust as needed. But make sure you get deep enough to take the entire scar."

Dean turned the knife to the angle he thought he'd need, and pressed down, pulling the edge to the side, slicing into Melissa's flesh. Her blood spilled over the cut as he took hold with his empty hand, and sliced in a little deeper before coming away with a piece of skin and muscle roughly the size of the end of his thumb.

"Sam?... Is she okay?" Dean asked, watching closely as Castiel put his hands down on Melissa's back, and a piece of healthy flesh appeared, filling the gap he'd just made.

"Her heart rate didn't change at all. She's still under."

Dean put the piece into the empty tray, and moved to cut out another piece. This time, he found it more difficult, having to cut into the brand new skin to make sure all of the scar tissue came out. "This is the one that keeps her in, right?... If we have to stop early, I want to know we got that one first."

"That's correct. This one is the priority." Castiel affirmed, as he healed her again. "We will still have to burn the pieces, and she'd probably prefer not to see pieces of herself when she wakes. It can be very disconcerting."

Sam and Dean shared a look before each looking back to Castiel.

Dean progressively cut larger pieces until Castiel asked him to go a slight bit smaller. They began to develop a rhythm, where Dean would be putting the pieces into the tray, and the new flesh would be there when he turned to make the next cut.

"You missed some... There, between those two ribs." Castiel said as Dean turned to find the hole he had left empty.

"I don't know if I can get it." Dean said.

"Try. It all has to be removed." Castiel said insistently.

Dean gave it another shot, and came away with a tiny piece.

"Move, get the blade out of the way!" Castiel said quickly, healing her as Dean jumped back, bumping into some of the equipment.

"What? What happened?" Dean asked.

"You knicked her lung... she's all right now."

Dean looked at Sam, who checked the monitors again. "He's right, she's still good."

Dean looked down at the progress they'd made so far. "Is that it?... We got the whole thing, she's not stuck anymore?"

Castiel nodded. "Once it's been burned, she'll be completely unaffected."

"So, we could stop now." Dean said, cautiously. "We could just stop right now, the rest isn't important."

"What? No!" Sam said. "It's all got to come off."

"Why? An anti-possession symbol, and something that keeps her from making deals, that's just smart. Think about it."

"It wasn't her choice to receive these marks in the first place, Dean." Castiel said firmly. "I understand you didn't want to do this in the first place, but that was a choice your father made for her, and you have seen the horrific repercussions of that choice. But it's not your place to make that decision for her either."

Dean looked at the slight discoloration barely visible in the bright light. The brand new skin that had never yet been exposed to sunlight carried a fading seam of white where it joined the original skin.

"Dean, if you need to take a break, if you want to try again tomorrow-" Sam started.

"No... No, there's no reason to put her through this again. She wants it gone, I'll make it happen." Dean said, stepping back into place, and nodding to Castiel to get ready.

The rhythm of cutting and healing resumed, Sam keeping a vigilant eye on the monitors, and on Dean.

Finally, he took his hands away, holding the knife in one hand, and the last piece of Melissa's scarred flesh in the other. His hands were covered in blood, his face smeared, except for where his own sweat had washed it away. Dean turned to face his brother, still looking at the piece of flesh he held.

"Sam..." Dean said softly. "Do you think dad knew how bad it was going to get for her?"

Worry was written on Sam's face as he looked at his brother, wondering exactly how much he had had to fight his own less-than-literal demons to make through the procedure.

Castiel looked up, having healed the last cut. He was obviously exhausted and nearly out of grace, and also perturbed by the way Dean was speaking. "Sam, I think I can take it from here."

Sam nodded and took Dean by the shoulders, guiding him to drop the last piece in the tray, and hurrying him out of the room.

Castiel waited until they were gone before running his fingers over the new flesh fondly, and pulling the waistband down. The shirt had been stained, but for him, it would be salvageable.

He carefully slid his arm under the front of her shoulders, and down the center of her chest, pulling the head piece out of the side of the table with his other hand. He gripped her carefully and turned her to lay on her back, moving her lower to rest her head on the table.

The red marks on the sides of her face were a testament to the length of time she'd been unconscious with her face supported by the head piece.

Delicately, Castiel removed the breathing tube, and stroked the side of her face. "Honeybee..."

Healing her and keeping her unconscious had taken almost everything he had. He lifted the block he'd put on her mind, and waited...

In no time at all, if a little disoriented and uncomfortable, she would wake...

It was taking a bit longer than he expected...

Realization struck him. Something was wrong...

"SAM!"


	37. Chapter 37

Sam moved the machine and the now disused I.V. tubes closer to the wall. "Dean probably hit the button on accident when he jumped back... it'll take a little longer for her to wake up, but since she's still breathing and the tube is out, she should be fine. Just have to wait for it to wear off... I should get back outside, Dean's still a little rattled."

"Why is he outside?" Castiel asked, his panic still wearing off.

"Burning the pieces, with salt, like you said." Sam answered. He considered Castiel's obvious expression of weariness. "Listen, do you think she'll be okay waking up in here, since she hates hospitals? I can move her for you."

Castiel nodded, "That may be for the best."

* * *

Dean watched the fire in the metal tray, trying not to think about the number of times he had listened to flame destroy the flesh of a loved one.

This was different. He tried to remind himself, this time, they had saved her. She was actually better off now than when they'd found her, as she would be able to die a normal death when her time came.

Not that that ever seemed to be the case with Winchesters...

Sam came to stand next to him.

"Dude..." he said, passing Dean a beer. "It's not a funeral. Hell, this time, we win, so we should celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. That's what normal people do when they save someone." Sam said.

Dean took a drink, and shot him a sceptical look. "She lost everything except her life, you know... and for a while there, she lost that too."

"She's still has Cas. And us. And, I don't know, she seems like an optimist."

"Only when she's drunk..." Dean said, taking another swig.

"What does that mean?" Sam asked pointedly.

"It means... while you and Cas were getting all this-" he waved his palm in a circle at the small fire, "ready, I've been distracting her. Really, she's been a mess... Her kids think she's dead, only Chase knows she isn't, and she hates his guts now for stealing her children. Man, I have tried damn near everything to cheer her up since I got back. Only thing that's been working is getting sauced."

Sam nodded. "That's a lot to lose... So you figure instead of dealing with her problems, she should drink all the time?"

"Shut up, Sammy... You know this can only go one of two ways, either she has to ditch us, and go make a new life for herself, or she's going to get sucked into what we do, and ruin what life she has left. Just kind of scares me what might come after her if she's out on her own, or what she might do, but even scarier is the shit that follows us around. Look what happened when I dragged Crowley into this. Of course, if I hadn't, maybe she wouldn't have died..."

Sam was pensive. "You think this is our fault?... That she's lost her kids and her family?"

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a pattern for our family."

Sam took a drink as he watched the fire continue to burn the small pile into salted ash.

"Yeah, well... she was born into it." Sam said. "No telling what'll happen."

"Sam, when she got to the warehouse, she went in knowing she might not make it out."

"Did she say that?"

"She did, when Cas had passed out, and... Man, I don't know, I didn't think he was still alive... she charged up his batteries or something, but right before that... she made me promise if she died that we'd stay the hell away from her kids."

Sam nodded. "So you figure she got the idea we're bad luck, and didn't want us losing them too."

Dean shrugged. "What else could it have meant?"

* * *

"It's a couch, not a trampoline, guys."

Castiel looked up quickly. "Melissa?"

"Wait... what?" she mumbled.

"I thought you'd wake up soon, since you'd started to dream."

"Yeah, when are we... wait, did we already do the stuff?" Melissa asked in a mixture of excited and groggy.

"It's gone. All of it." Castiel assured her.

She managed to get herself upright, but promptly doubled over onto her legs. Castiel took hold of her shoulders and righted her.

"I'm scared to check." she said in a hushed tone. "What does it look like?"

Castiel took her forearm and turned it so her palm was up, running his fingers over the soft, untanned area. "Like this, and only slightly paler."

Melissa put her own hand where his had been. "Really?"

"You're crying... I thought this would please you?" Castiel said.

Melissa ignored him, and felt carefully at her back, just above the waist, to as far up as she could manage. "It's gone... All of it?"

"Yes... Although one may have been beneficial for you to keep, it's all been removed. There's a metal charm with the same symbol you can carry to prevent demon possession." Castiel said.

Melissa settled down into the pillows. "Is Dean okay?"

"Sam is with him." Castiel said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

* * *

As the fire started to die down, Sam began to poke through it with a stick, making sure nothing was left intact.

Dean stood back, more concerned with his beer and his phone. Sam noticed when he heard chuckling.

"What, you found a good kludge?" Sam asked, still poking the ashes.

"No, just, uh... Lita. She's in Spain, now, and her great grandma made her eat her vegetables... Yeah, old ladies are adorable." Dean said, shaking his head.

"You're... still talking to Lita?... The college freshman?" Sam said. "Shouldn't you be hitting on her great grandma?"

"Hey, it's summer, she's not a freshman anymore. And anyway, she transferred, so she's... whatever the thing is, in Spanish. With, like, Spain-Spanish, even. And this hunters network, we should get in on this, or at least keep an eye on it." Dean said, putting his phone away and draining his bottle. "So... are we done here?"

"Looks like it." Sam said, getting to his feet.

* * *

Castiel closely followed Melissa into the kitchen late that evening. She was still unsteady on her feet thanks to the mishap with the anesthesia.

"Hey, now it's a party!" Dean said from the table, closing his laptop.

"No partying, dude, she's still coming out of it." Sam said from the stove.

"Sam's making spaghetti." Dean said, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm great, just tired." Melissa said quietly.

Dean nodded, satisfied with her answer. "So, you guys got any big plans for the weekend? Sam and I got a call, probably a job, out in Utah. Looked something up for Garth, but if it gets any worse, he'll have us run in and help."

Melissa shook her head, "No plans... don't think there's anything I could do to help with that, either... or much of anything else."

"Hey, you've got a really good work ethic, there are places, charities all over the world that could use having you around. That whole sainthood thing is probably still a big factor." Sam said. "How does that work, now, Cas?"

Melissa and Dean also turned to look at him.

Castiel shrugged slightly. "Technically, she is still a saint, otherwise she wouldn't be able to create grace at all. There's no precedent, however, for there being 37 saints in the world. There could be repercussions we don't know about yet."

* * *

It was the middle of the night, three days later.

"You have to sleep eventually." Castiel said.

"No... not without the lamp on."

"You agreed to try. If you want me to stay here with you, I will." Castiel reminded her.

"What if I wake up, and it's completely dark? I can't take that idea. I miss my window, being able to turn over and see the moon, or at least some stars." Melissa said, scooting closer, and finding his earlobe with her lips.

"Melissa, please try to sleep. You need your rest."

"For what? Another gruelling day of sitting around in the bunker? Fucking hole in the ground..." Melissa said, rolling onto her back. Her voice was closer to broken when she spoke again. "I miss my kids."

Castiel pulled her bare body tight against his own. "I promise they are safe."

"I want to see them." She said, turning her head, despite not being able to see him in the darkness. "It's three a.m. there, right? They never wake up after eleven, no one would notice."

Castiel kissed her softly, and turned on the light.

A short time later, a rustle of wings occurred in a large, comfortable room in a large, comfortable house outside of Birmingham.

Two full sized beds stood against one wall, one empty despite the rumpled blankets, the other held two sleeping children.

The rest of the room contained toys, a small television and game console, two dressers, and a pair of child sized desks, littered with age appropriate craft supplies. A nightlight glowed faintly in one corner, and a large glass cage on a shelf held a pet snake. Crude crayon and construction paper artwork peppered the walls.

"Can you keep them asleep? I don't want them to wake up. It would break their hearts."

Castiel nodded, certain she knew already how bad the pain would be, feeling it herself.

Melissa climbed onto the middle of the bed, taking each of her children's hands. Even with her back to him, Castiel could tell when the tears began to flow.

"They know what you are, Castiel... There's no reason you couldn't come see them for me." Melissa whispered.

"Their sanity could be questioned, if they said they were receiving messages from their dead mother from an angel." Castiel said quietly.

Melissa wiped several tears off the side of her face. "I guess you're right... Are they being taken care of?"

Castiel reached out to the children with his grace. "They are well. And their stress is far less than yours. I'm certain they miss you, but if they stay here, they will continue to adjust."

Melissa nodded. She tried to keep it together as she put one small hand into the other, before climbing off the bed, kissing each of her sons on their heads, and walking back to the middle of the room, but Castiel could feel it as she shrugged, clearly unable to speak for fear she would start weeping.

* * *

Sam staggered into the kitchen, ready for some coffee, only to find a nearly empty pot.

Melissa sat at the table with a brand new laptop.

"Hey... So, what's up?" Sam asked through a yawn.

"Paris." Melissa answered.

"Paris... okay." Sam said. "What about Paris?"

"I'm thinking a week should be enough to see most of the stuff I'm interested in. Then, who knows?... Maybe I'll go meet up with Lita, check out this hunters thing."

Sam nodded. "You know you need a new identity, right?"

"Yeah. Melissa Faulkner is dead. Said goodbye to her kids last night and everything."

Sam blinked. "You went to see them?"

"Castiel took me. They're going to be okay, but not if they stay with me... Chase is right, even if I hate him for it." Melissa said, rubbing her face. Sam finally noticed she looked like she'd been crying.

"So, any ideas for your new name?" Sam asked, sitting down at the table.

"Yeah, actually... the last one anyone would ever expect to find me using." Melissa said with a chuckle.

"What's that?"

"Mitzy Winchester."

* * *

The End

* * *

(A/N: Hope you enjoyed it, 37th saint, 37th chapter, booyah for symmetry, right?

So sad she had to say goodbye to her kids, but, she's a Winchester, loss is part of their life. Tragic, but we wouldn't be fans if we weren't gluttons for punishment.

Anyway, Lita... goodness, I had no idea she'd develop like that, I really like her, so she'll be back very soon in a new story, working title currently 'Tree-fiddy.')


End file.
